Lesser of Two xNasap: A Rewritex
by InChrist-Billios
Summary: Arranged marriage, kidnapping, intrigue, and magic. It's Nasap the way you wished it would have been! Join the revamped cast of characters as they troop all over Ladyra on a wild-goose-chase for their very lives. What? I stink at summaries? Ssh.
1. In Which The Story Is Begun

**13 . 2 . 10**

**Alright, how many of you remember that story called "Not All Surprises Are Pleasant"? Recall the plot (if you can call it that) and the characters (/cardboard cut-outs) as best you can. Got it? Okay. Now, put that in your pocket. You won't be needing it any more. What we have here is a rewrite of Nasap, expanded, improved, and ready to try again. It even has a new name! You might notice that I renamed Jab and NAPAN too – I decided to go for a different theme in my titles. I hope it doesn't confuse you too much.**

**Now, about Nasap: I decided not to completely eradicate the somewhat childish air of the story, because I thought it was important to the spirit of the piece, if you will. (In fact, there are large chunks of untouched text.) So those expecting something deep and moving to come out of the silly little tale I posted several years ago will be disappointed. Those who read Jab without reading Nasap might be interested to see where some of the characters in Jab came from. Those who haven't read either... well, you may or may not like it. I guess there's no real way of knowing. --laugh--**

**I'd be much obliged if all of you would review, though, and tell me what you think. **

**Disclaimer: Carvin's name was **Lobuck**'s invention. The story is more or less mine.**

* * *

Greyson estate was at its finest that evening in early spring. The sun was starting to set behind the large hill that shadowed the archery range, but there was still plenty of light to accommodate the lone boy pulling the bowstring taut. The golden light diffused through his dark hair and melted on his tanned skin. He loosed an arrow; it struck close to the center. The boy let out a puff of frustration and pulled another arrow to his bow. He was one of the best archers his age in the town, and he was proud of that fact. When the next arrow hit dead center, he smiled; then he glanced over his shoulder, wondering when his friend would return.

Nearer to the house, a trim stable – well looked after and well used – let out a few whinnies as the stable hands brushed the horses clean of all their daily grime. There were many horses at Greyson, ready to accommodate whatever need the Duke thought up. The horses were especially fine; the Duke was fortunate enough to have made acquaintance with a man who knew what to look for in horses.

A worn path led from the stable to the manor house. It was a familiar sort of house, furnished lushly with rich, comfortable furniture. The small, well kept garden could be seen from the windows in the study, where a teenaged boy was slumped at the table, sweaty from being at the archery range and wondering why his father wanted to see him. The older man began to speak in his usual long winded manner, spreading his hands wide for effect.

"Now, my boy, I have been thinking about your future."

The boy, Carvin, inwardly groaned; his father had been 'thinking about his future' ever since he was eight years old, and it never turned out to be anything enjoyable. School, for instance, had been one of those ideas. While he appreciated education in theory, he was not taken with the concept of being locked indoors during the best daylight hours.

"As you know, I am a duke," the man continued with inflection, obviously enjoying himself. "I believe that the Tiroes can do much better than being dukes, however: much better! With your experience in archery and horsemanship, in addition to your–"

"Father, please get to the point," Carvin interrupted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. He was used to his father's loquaciousness, but he was also eager to get back to the range before the light was completely gone.

The man chuckled and leaned forward, his youthful blue eyes twinkling with excitement. He was not in the least perturbed by his son's interruption. As he usually preceded any announcement with at least ten minutes of introduction, he'd grown quite accustomed to being interrupted, and it bothered his buoyant spirit not a whit.

"Ah, my boy, you take this news lightly! This is no mere trinket of information, to be cast by the wayside! No! This is monumental, and I believe you will be _thrilled_ to hear it!"

Carvin's curiosity piqued a little and he sat up.

"Carvin, I've arranged," he paused a little for effect.

Carvin started to smile in anticipation.

"A marriage between you and the Princess Nre!"

* * *

"Surely you jest!" cried Nre, dropping her fork with a clatter that echoed throughout the royal dining hall.

"I most certainly do not," frowned her father, the king of Berensia. "Please try to be ladylike, Nre, and do not shout or drop your silverware. Surely Lady … Talin, is it?"

Queen Gloria nodded, but he barely glanced at her.

"Surely Lady Talin has taught you better manners than this. Or do we need to hire a new governess?"

Nre ignored his remarks and pushed her plate away; she had lost her appetite.

"Come, come, my dear," soothed her mother.

She quickly looked at her husband.

"I'm sure the governess is fine, Thomas. She is just a little upset."

Thomas was already busy again with his food and didn't take much notice. Gloria turned back to Nre who was looking stormy.

"I'm sure he is a lovely boy; his father is one of our oldest friends! A duke, you know."

"Yes, mother, I know," Nre said impatiently, vaguely recalling being introduced to the talkative Duke once a long while ago. "But what about—" She stopped herself just in time, blushing hotly. It was useless to bring up Cameron, the man she'd been hoping to court: the prince of Grendath. She switched tacks. "But why? Why must you arrange my marriage? Alphonse was able to choose his own wife. I'm not even an heir to the throne! Why must I marry at all?"

Her older brother, Alphonse, was to be the ruling monarch when her father stepped down, and he was already married to the woman of his choice.

"The Tiroes are of fine stock. It would do us well to have some of their blood in our family," continued her father, looking up as he scooped the last of his potatoes from his plate. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to."

He left the table, leaving Gloria to calm the irate princess. _Blood, stock,_ Nre thought angrily. _He makes it sound as if we're dealing with cattle! _And she couldn't get Cameron's face out of her head.

"Nre–" Gloria started.

"I, too, will take my leave," Nre said, biting out the words like knives; tears stabbed at her eyes.

She stood up and whirled around, running from the room before Gloria could say another word. Gloria sighed. She did not like forcing her daughter into an arranged marriage. Thomas, however, did not listen to her when she tried to express her opinion to him in private.

_"They will do this family well, Gloria, and I will hear no more of it," _he had said, giving her a brief smile and a squeeze on the shoulder. _"Trust me."_

And she did trust him, implicitly. He had worked hard to win her trust, and he deserved it. But trusting Thomas herself and asking Nre to trust him were two different things. Gloria shook her head and stood up. She'd have to have a talk with Nre, and ask Thomas to talk to Nre. If he hadn't been holing himself up in his study so often lately, he might have realized that his daughter was no longer twelve years old and daddy's little girl.

"Thank you," she said to the serving maids who came to clear away the table. "I am sorry that they both left in a hurry."

"Think nothing of it, your highness," a brown haired maid said with a curtsy and a smile. "I hope you enjoy your evening."

"I hope so too," she said with a tired smile, leaving the hall and thinking again of Nre.

What a lady she was growing up to be! If she were only a bit less dramatic– Gloria laughed aloud, knowing fully well where Nre had gotten her flair. She herself had been a bit dramatic when she was younger. _She will understand, when Thomas talks to her,_ Gloria reassured herself, striding down the hallway toward the stairs. _If I can get Thomas to talk to her._

* * *

Unaware of the recent happenings in Berensia, Cameron ducked low over Aedan's neck, urging her to a canter. The mare was reluctant, but she eventually smoothed her gait and took long strides. The path beneath her hooves was packed dirt, damp with recent rain. The fog of a hot rainfall lingered in the valleys between the trees. Cameron could feel it wick away the warmth in his calves, tight as they were to the body of his horse.

His face was damp with sweat, but the humid air cooled the heat, though it didn't dry his face very much. This path along the outskirts of the castle grounds gave him full view of the beautiful Grendathian mountains, stark on the horizon. The sun was setting, glistening on the everlasting snow at their peaks and throwing their roughness into sharp relief.

Soon the path curved away from the mountains and toward the west, where the sun was hidden by the grove of trees planted by Cameron's forefathers to block the castle from the town. "We have enough scrutiny as it is," they had said, and so the trees had come to be. There were few trees anywhere else near the royal palace. They grew in more abundance further from the mountains, though it didn't seem anyone knew exactly why. People said that all the trees were cut down and burnt long ago in a war of the Magics, but Cameron wasn't so sure about that.

The fog licked his arms as he rode through the shadows, slippery tongues evaporating as soon as they had formed. It blew through his hair: water through flame.

The path curved again, toward the castle, and Cameron began to slow Aedan down for the final stretch. She broke back into a trot as they began to pass his mother's Grey Garden. It was something she had once seen in her travels in the North as a young woman. In the mountains, the people made gardens of stone and dried wood, arranged in patterns. Cameron thought it looked bleak and hopeless, but his mother thought it was simple and soothing.

He lifted a hand to her as he passed; she was sitting on the granite bench – a sliver of color against the garden. She wore a dark colored dress, but her skin was fair and her hair as red as Cameron's. On her, it looked auburn and regal – not fiery or rebellious at all. She was serene. She was perfect. She was always perfect.

She smiled her calm smile at him as he rode by, then looked back to her Grey Garden.

When they returned to the stables, Cameron dismounted and wiped his forehead. Sweat and condensation left a smear on his white sleeve. He called over a stable boy to deal with his horse and started walking back to the castle.

The border patrol meeting was coming up soon, and though he tried to convince himself that he was just looking forward to the political opportunities the meeting offered, he also couldn't get a certain smiling face out of his mind: Nre, the princess of Berensia and his friend, whom he hadn't seen since the meeting last year. He reflected that she would be sixteen now, and he wondered how much she would have changed.

He also thought, cautiously (and not for the first time) that it wouldn't be long before her hand would be sought by the eligible suitors of the surrounding lands. He wasn't sure when appropriate courting age began in Berensia, but he made a note to find out. She had grown to be one of his closest and dearest friends, as much as distance allowed.

He smiled as he opened the door into the castle, and a spring was in his step.

* * *

**So, people. Can I have some opinions?**

**Reviewers will get a bowl of snow ice-cream!**


	2. In Which Many People Are Disgruntled

**24 . 2 . 10**

**Much thanks to those readers who are following this rewrite. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your renewed insight.**

**Disclaimer: Gloria's revamped personality is based on **Cimh**'s portrayal of her in "Before the Fall" (previously NAPAN).

* * *

**

Carvin stalked back out to the archery range automatically, his mind swirling. _My father was right_, he thought, _this isn't a mere trinket of news. It's the rock that started the avalanche!_

He was engaged? To Princess Nre? He'd never even seen the girl! Because he lived practically on the other side of the kingdom, the closest he had come to seeing her was a particularly bad painting his father had of the royal family; it was hanging in the hallway. Of course, the painting had been done several years ago, but even the fumbling artist had managed to catch the haughty glint in the twelve-year-old princess's eye.

"Carvin! What on earth did your father want?" asked his friend, Faidn, who had been running up the hill from the archery range at top speed until he spotted his friend. "You've been gone for so long I thought he might have wrapped you into listening to stories of his childhood again. Of course, if that was the case, I had to come rescue you."

Faidn struck a heroic pose. Carvin gave him a withering look that clearly told him he wasn't in the mood for questions, or jesting.

"I've wasted enough time already. I only have an hour more to shoot before supper," he said shortly.

They started walking but Faidn's curiosity was not to go unsatisfied.

"What was taking you so long, Carvin? What did your father want to tell you?" he pressed.

Carvin sighed, but decided the course of direct action would be best, given the personality of his friend.

"I'm engaged to someone I've never met before."

Faidn grinned and punched Carvin's arm, his green eyes sparkling mischievously.

"All right! Now you can ditch Anna! I never liked her, anyway. She looks at me like I'm a toad or something."

"Well, sometimes you act like one," Carvin replied moodily, remembering the pretty brunette at his school – the governor's daughter.

"That doesn't give her an excuse to be a judge!" Faidn retorted defensively, then he realized Carvin hadn't denied an attraction to Anna. "You like Anna, don't you?" he grinned.

"No!" Carvin replied firmly.

"I saw that look you gave her last week."

"What look?"

"The one that clearly said 'Oh Anna! You're so beautiful! Let me tie your shoes for you! Let me follow you to the ends of the–' Ow!" Faidn yelped as Carvin kicked him, hard, in the shin.

"Be quiet, Faidn," he growled. "Let's go shoot."

He set off at a quicker pace towards the archery range with Faidn limping exaggeratedly behind him.

"Wait up! Hey! Lover boy!" he called.

Carvin didn't even glance behind him, so Faidn gave up the limp and jogged up next to Carvin.

"Alright, so arranged marriage isn't exactly... the best," he allowed, "but she can't be too bad! Your father isn't a heartless person." Faidn paused to consider. "At least, I think he's a got a heart mixed in with all that mouth. Besides, look on the bright side! This way she can't turn you down."

"Thanks, Fai," Carvin said with heavy sarcasm.

"Who's the lucky girl?" Faidn asked, undaunted by Carvin's uncharacteristically dour mood.

They had reached the archery range – Carvin notched an arrow to the bow and released it. It thudded a little to the upper left of the center.

"Nre."

"Nre who? That one down the road?" Faidn looked like he'd swallowed a porcupine. "She's still a bit young. You've got plenty of time."

Carvin rolled his eyes and began to aim his next shot.

"No, not that Nre: _the_ Nre. Nre Louis is _eight._ That would be sick!"

"Alright, a princess! That's much better than Nre Louis. She's a hair-puller, anyway. It wouldn't have worked out."

Carvin couldn't help a low chuckle at the thought of what Nre Louis would say to that.

"So, anyway, the princess," Faidn continued, mulling it over out loud. "Could be worse. I've heard she's..."

"Spirited?" Carvin supplied.

"Yeah," Faidn said.

Carvin looked grim, fitting another arrow to the bow.

"I'm sure she's not as bad as she sounds," Faidn said, shooting his own arrow and striking the center. "You knew this might happen one day, with you being the next Duke, and all."

"I know," Carvin said with a grunt, loosing the arrow and watching it hit the outermost ring. "But I thought I'd know her, at least. You know, help my father make the decision. And I don't want to marry _now,_ anyway."

He let out a loud, frustrated sigh and shot an arrow recklessly. It missed the target.

"Why _do_ you have to marry now?" Faidn asked, shooting another arrow into the center.

They were only seventeen, after all. Carvin didn't really have to marry until he was in his twenties. Faidn didn't have to marry at all: a fact he was most grateful for. Being an ordinary citizen of Berensia definitely had its perks from time to time, if you put aside living in a leaky house and maintaining a very effective weight-loss program when his father was out of work...

"I don't really know," Carvin said, taking more careful aim with his next arrow. "He said something about it being the king's idea. You know how they're old friends. I guess he owed him a favor."

"Who owed who a favor?" Faidn asked.

They loosed the arrows at the same time; Faidn got yet another bulls-eye, and Carvin's wasn't far away. Carvin shrugged in response to Faidn's question.

"Is she, you know, compromised somehow?" Faidn asked.

"'Compromised'? Since when do you use polite words?" Carvin asked jokingly, but he frowned at the thought. "He didn't say. I don't think so." There was another brief silence. "Hey, wait!" Carvin cried. "Are you saying she needs to have something wrong with her to marry me?"

"No!" Faidn said immediately. "That's not what I meant!"

"I'm really not a terrible candidate, you know," Carvin said, sounding ruffled.

"No, I know!" Faidn said, backpedaling. "You're great. If I was a girl, I'd marry you!"

Carvin gave him a very strange look.

"Thanks," he said slowly. "I think."

Faidn looked up at the heavens.

"Why can I never win?" he muttered.

Carvin didn't answer. He shot another arrow, which went wide, again. Frustrated, he clenched his hand around the bow.

"You're shaking the bow at the last second," Faidn told him, running off to yank the arrows from the target. "Keep it steady."

"Right," Carvin said, then added as an afterthought: "I'm going to see her soon."

"Do I get to come?" Faidn asked hopefully, running back.

"I doubt it," Carvin laughed. "I can't bring you anywhere. You'd probably start talking about horses."

"There's nothing wrong with horses," Faidn said indignantly. "Now, let's shoot off a few more rounds before I have to go help serve supper. Da will give me a lashing if I'm late again."

Carvin agreed, and they both lifted their bows to concentrate on the far target.

* * *

Pale silk curtains the color of cream were hanging loosely in front of the two windows in the Princess's Royal Bedchamber. One faced southwest, and the other, north. The curtains on the southwestern window glowed a dim yellow in the fading light from the horizon, adding a pale highlight to the bookshelf beneath it. The bookshelf held all of Nre's favorite books, well read and fastidiously cared for. The only sign of use was the finger-shaped faded marks on the front and back covers from so many times reading them.

The bed, situated so that the window was just to its right, had been neatly made up that morning, though the current occupant had scrambled it so thoroughly as to make that fact completely unknowable. The Princess wiped her eyes roughly with her sleeve and sniffed, wishing she had a handkerchief at hand.

The doorknob jiggled and the muffled voice of her maid, Lois, called shrilly through the door.

"Nre Glorious Windham! Open this door! This is not the way a young woman should act!"

"No!" Nre yelled fiercely, burying herself deeper into her bedclothes and ignoring how rumpled her dress was getting.

"You're acting like a child, Nre!"

"I don't care!" Nre shouted back, now feeling distinctly childish, since Lois mentioned it. "Leave me alone!"

She listened hard and heard the sound of Lois's retreating footsteps. She was going to get her keys, no doubt.

_Sixteen _is _much too old to be having a tantrum, _she reprimanded herself. However, she still had a hard time believing her father was marrying her to the duke's son just for the sake of 'noble blood' and all that rot. And Cameron...

She heard a key sliding in the lock. _Boy, am I ever going to catch it,_ she thought with a scowl. Lois was not known for her mercy.

Nre threw the coverlet over her head as Lois strode in.

"Nre," Lois said sternly, "come out from under your covers. I want to talk to you."

The woman standing with her hands on her hips had a firm look about her, unlike the portly nannies most seemed to expect. Lois was a slim, angular woman whose sharp, honey colored eyes had all the servants scrambling to keep her appeased. Her greying brown hair was pulled back into a neat bun, and her choice dress of grey and white was pressed and spotless, as always. Despite her intimidating appearance, the woman was very kind to those that obeyed without sassing, and hardly spoke a harsh word, except when it was deserved.

She had a special place in her heart for this girl she had helped to raise. She thought of her as the daughter she never had (being the mother of two sons) and, as such, treated her with the discipline no one else had the heart to give her.

The girl pushed the blanket away and sat up, glowering.

Lois hid a smile as she looked at the rumpled dress, mussed hair, and red face; it reminded her of all the times she had to placate the princess in previous years.

Expecting a lecture on the proper way to behave, Nre was surprised when Lois began to speak softly.

"Your father means well, Nre. Carvin is a nice boy, I'm sure. Your father has only your best interests in mind."

"That's a lie!" Nre said heatedly. "This has nothing to do with my best interests! If it did, then... then... it wouldn't have happened," she finished lamely.

Another tear slid down her cheek at the injustice of her situation. Once her father made up his mind, there was nothing she could do to change it.

Lois smiled understandingly.

"I know it feels that way now, dear, but it will all turn out right in the end."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Now, come on; let's get you changed for bed."

It didn't take long to brush her hair, change her into a nightgown, and put her back in bed comfortably with a book. Lois was heading out when she turned suddenly.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! Carvin and his family are coming to brunch next Tuesday. In the meantime, you will have extra etiquette lessons with Lady Talin."

Once Lois was out of earshot, Nre muttered to herself,

"And with that piece of information, I'm sure I'll sleep like a rock."

She didn't. She dreamt of Cameron and a shadowy-faced figure she knew to be Lord Tiroe swordfighting while she screamed at them to stop.

* * *

Gloria sat in a chair in her room and frowned, tapping a quill against her lip as she perused the list of horses that the royal stables wished to acquire. The list was far less than satisfactory, and she suspected she would have to look into the matter personally, to be sure they only bought the best horses. Or perhaps she could ask Jared to ask that friend of his, whoever he was.

"Thomas, who is in charge of buying the horses?" she asked without looking up.

"Hm?" he said disinterestedly, otherwise occupied at his desk.

"The horses, Thomas," she repeated, looking up. "Who—?"

She halted her question when she realized he still wasn't listening. He was directing all his energy at his desk, sifting through stacks and leaving them messily on the floor, rummaging through drawers, and mumbling things about stupid attendants who lose letters.

Simeon, his attendant, chose to ignore the murmured statement. After another moment of the king's irritated searching, he offered his services.

"Can I assist you, highness?"

"No!" Thomas snapped, then resumed muttering. "No, no, it's around here somewhere... no one could have taken... sure it was in... ah ha!"

He raised his arm triumphantly, waving a letter from the King of Grendath.

"Read it to me, Simeon," the king said, sitting down in his chair and closing his eyes.

Gloria listened with interest. She hadn't heard from Delmun and Thyatira for quite a while. Their son, Cameron, was a delightful boy; Gloria had had half a mind that he would marry Nre one day. He did seem to be fond of her. But...

Simeon took the letter and cleared his throat before reading.

"_To King Thomas of Berensia;_

_Yes, I will be able to come to the border patrol conference on the twelfth. I was planning to bring Cameron with me, as always, but I have something to discuss with you about that matter._

_It has not escaped my notice that the two of them have maintained a steady correspondence over the years. Cameron is always eager to receive her letters, and he composes replies in short order. With a sentence or two, I could encourage him to think on her more appealing attributes. She has a witty mind and a pleasing manner, and she is maturing. If you would consider an arrangement between the two of them, I doubt Cameron would object. A formal alliance between our two countries could serve both of us well in the future._

_Cordially,_

_King Delmun of Grendath_

–_Recorded by Rentil Scrit; attendant to the King"_

Simeon lowered the letter and waited for further instruction.

Gloria froze, the end of the quill in her mouth, though she didn't realize it. _Cameron? And Nre? Well! It seems I wasn't far off in my suspicions, if old Delmun caught wind of Cameron's look himself. No wonder Nre was so upset about her father's news._ She glanced over at Thomas, whose eyes were still closed, though his face was not at ease. With a pang that made her wince, she recalled earlier days, when she might have walked over and sat on his lap before asking what was wrong. The conversation would have ended with both of them in laughter about something ridiculous, and they would have felt immensely better about everything.

_What happened?_ she wondered wistfully, taking the feather from her mouth and twirling it around. _What...

* * *

_

**Any opinions would be appreciated! I guess I can't really solicit speculation anymore, what with this being a rewrite and all... How odd.**

Backroads**: Yes, don't revisit bad memories. --laugh-- I'm glad you liked the juvenile air – I just found that I couldn't get rid of it without spoiling the entire story, so I decided to keep it. Hopefully it shall be a quaint addition and not a bothersome one. Heh. Oh, you know how I love triangles. Where would a good love be without some conflict? --mischievous smile--**

Mazzie**: That's fine. You don't have to recall the original. Obviously, I'm rewriting, so any pertinent information that you should know will be told to you again. Isn't that handy? --laugh-- Aw, no speculating indeed! What a sad thought. I do hope you shall keep reviewing, anyway.**

Captain**: Oh, did you really? I'm impressed. How was it? Ah, see, I thought you had read it. You probably just blocked the memory because it was so awful. --laugh!-- I'm glad you can see improvement already. That's heartening.**

EVA**: I'm glad you think it's fun – I can't tell you how glad I am that you're choosing to read this story again! And review! --smile-- Yes, it would seem rather adulterous, wouldn't it? O.o But I'm having great fun revisiting their younger and more innocent selves. Oh, don't worry – Iriana bits are already in the works. I think there's a piece with her in the next few chapters. Since I'm focusing a bit more on Cameron in the rewrite, it's only natural that we get a peek at his family. --wink-- Well, Jared in NAPAN was a bit loquacious, and it's just a trait that was exacerbated in time and after many years in court. --shrug-- He's not identical, but it's also been roundabout 40 years; people are not so recognizable after so much time. I'm glad the description is working for you. --smile-- Hmm, mightn't Thyatira have become more up-tight after what happens in the end...? Yes, the Japanese rock garden is the effect I was going for. You might not think they look bleak or hopeless, but think of Cameron. He's very impetuous and firey tempered. He wouldn't be the type to really see the beauty in a rock garden; he'd be much more likely to be in awe over a rushing waterfall – something powerful and full to bursting with life. I changed the name as a play on the saying "the lesser of two evils."**

Fay**: That's fine. Whatever works for you. --laugh-- I might get annoyed if I was hearing you say it aloud like that constantly, but since I never hear you speak, I'm not bothered at all. Carvin and Faidn are much changed in Jab – regular old growing up plus the untold events in SHOE both play parts in making them considerably less silly and amusing. Faidn. I love Faidn. Perhaps as much as I love Karl. Actually, probably more, in this one, because he's got a good heart – which is more than I can say for that self-centered sleaze-ball of a fiari... Yes, 16 is a bit early to be getting married. Hence why Nre is digging in her heels and Gloria is getting suspicious. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.**


	3. In Which a Letter Is Written

**8 . 3 . 10**

**I hope the weather where you are is as delightful as the weather where I am. -smile-**

* * *

"Princess!" Lady Talin said sharply.

Nre jerked her gaze from the open window and looked at her instructor guiltily. _This,_ she decided, _is why I would much rather go to common school; the teacher has more students to fuss over! _The trees and bushes outside the window were much more interesting than the chalkboard in the small private room used for Nre's lessons.

"Please answer my question, Princess. Which of these forks do you use first?" She pointed to a numbered diagram of a place setting on the board.

"Number... three," Nre answered.

"Very good. Which of these is your dessert fork?"

"Number five," she sighed.

"Excellent. I can see your mind is elsewhere, young one. Go outside and liven yourself up a bit, will you?"

"Thank you, Lady Talin, I will!" she said in relief, and decided that her etiquette teacher just might have a heart, after all.

When the Lady wasn't looking, she slipped a book, a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink from her desk. Hiding them behind her back she sidled out of the room and into the corridor. She then headed straight for the courtyard.

When she opened the heavy door, the sunlight hit her eyes and made her blink. She just smiled and walked past the fountain to a stone bench in the shade. She sat down and slid the book underneath the parchment before dipping the quill into the ink and beginning to write to her friend, Prince Cameron of Grendath.

The two had been writing back and forth for years, after they discovered their mutual dislike for writing at one of the border control meetings. This was an especial problem for Cameron, who was three years Nre's senior, and the crown prince of Grendath. They both found writing letters boring and frustrating, especially when forced to use all the formalities that were bad enough in normal speech, but took far longer to write down.

Their mothers thought that writing letters to each other would not only help them grow in friendship (thereby creating a stronger alliance between the neighboring countries) but also serve as a suitable exercise for letter writing. Eventually, their etiquette teachers deemed their letters worthy of regard, and they were allowed to discontinue their correspondence.

However, by that time the pair had discovered that writing letters wasn't half so bad as it used to be, and they continued writing letters back and forth to keep in practice, and keep up to date on any interesting happenings in the other country. Before long, their letters were filled with amusing incidents that occurred in the palace, or tales of jousts that Cameron had won.

Nre smiled when she remembered that the border control meeting was coming up soon, and she would be able to see her red haired friend again. _Has it really been only a year since I've seen him last? _she thought wonderingly, considering how much he might have changed in the course of the long year. He had been eighteen last year, and taller than she was, with hair cut cleanly short and his face clean-shaven. She remembered the brief moments they managed to snatch together and nibbled on the end of her quill, only halfway through writing his name at the top of the paper.

She knew she was smitten with the handsome prince, though she tried not to dwell on it. _He only thinks of you as a sister,_ she told herself sternly, turning back to her letter. She couldn't deny herself that that thought made her heart twinge, though. All she wanted was to be with him, forever— _Nre, stop,_ she instructed herself, bunching her eyebrows together in consternation. _You're not helping yourself, especially when you're to be married to someone else. Oh, heavens. Someone else._

The quill began moving across the parchment before she let her thoughts degrade further.

_Prince Cameron;_

_How is the palace this spring? Has all of your snow melted away for the year, yet? Ours has been gone for weeks now, and the sun is shining as brilliantly as if winter had never come. It's beautiful here._

_You asked of my family in your last letter – Mother and Father are doing well, I think. I hardly see them, but that's nothing new. Father's been very busy lately, I think. Mother seems more friendly than usual, and that only happens when Father is otherwise occupied. _

_Alphonse and Marlita are wonderful, as always. But, my brother always is. He's so loyal and unflappable; I'm envious of his disposition. How __can__ he be unperturbed by everything that goes on in those council meetings? I've listened in on a few of them, and I'm not sure I could keep my mind if I was asked to attend! There are so many problems, all of them perplexing, and each more important than the last. Perhaps I shall have to practice being unperturbed with all of the little calamities that happen to me, and it will get easier as I go. What do you think? The next time a maid spills tea on my dress, I shall level a gracious smile at her and remark, "It's alright, dear. This dress is not new."_

_Oh, consternation! I sound like Lois! No, I don't think I can be quite that gracious. Perhaps at least a, "Please don't cry, it's quite alright!" is more my style. Hm? Speaking of minor calamities, you'll never guess what has happened! __My father told me yesterday at dinner that I am to be married! Can you believe it? Can you imagine it? Me, married. Ha! To a duke's son! Duke Tiroe, specifically. (Do you know him, or his son? I know you probably don't, but it's worth asking. I must know all about my future husband!) _

_Please don't think I'm taking this lightly. I'm not. I just find that making light of the situation makes it seem less grievous. I'm really very worried, and I don't even understand why I'm to marry him! My father says that marrying him will "do the family good" and Lois insists that he's "a fine young man" but that hardly explains why I have to marry him out of the blue like this._

_I know it's my duty to marry a man who would be able to make Berensia a fine king if something ever happened to Alphonse – heavens forbid – but this whole matter is very overwhelming. I have a thousand questions, and no one is willing to give me any answers. Why Lord Tiroe? Why so suddenly? Why have I not heard of this before? What if I don't love him? _

Nre paused, biting her lip, before she continued writing, trying to make the handwriting even as she wrote the next sentence.

_What if I love someone else? What could I do? I have no choice in this matter! They expect me to be submissive, obedient, and resigned. I might yet. I just need to know __why__ I am to marry __him__._

_If someone can supply me with a good reason as to why I should marry Sir Tiroe, I will speak no more on the subject. I may not be pleased with this turn of events, but thinking about it rationally – I am trying to be like Alphonse, and I'm sure he would look at this situation from every angle – I have known that arranged marriage has always been a possibility. I suppose I can accept that, though I've had no hint of warning in the past. Whenever I ask why exactly I'm to marry Lord Tiroe, though, they ignore my question and say something almost completely unrelated in defense. After such comments, I'm totally unable to argue. For example: I talked to my mother today._

"_Mother, why must I marry Duke Tiroe's son? Why not a prince, or another Lord?" I said._

_This is how she replied: "Duke Tiroe is a fine man; you needn't worry about his son."_

_Honestly! And I __would__ of course like to wait for someone to actually propose to me instead of "Um, yes, so, I guess we're getting married, aren't we?" Something about this situation is odd, though I can't put my finger on it. I hope Father isn't in any trouble._

_And anyway, even if it is all just another one of my father's ideas, I'll never be able to change his mind, so I might as well get used to the idea. Duke and Lord Tiroe are coming next Tuesday for brunch, so I get extra etiquette lessons with Lady Talin. Ugh. As if I wasn't already dreading the brunch enough, without extra sessions with Lady Talin._

_She's not a bad lady, I suppose, but etiquette is very hard to remember: which fork goes where, what you can say, what you can eat, how you can smile, everything! You can imagine my feelings __on __that __turn of events._

Lady Talin poked her head out the door and saw Nre writing furiously on the stone bench.

"Princess! I told you to liven yourself up, not sit down and write!"

"Yes, ma'am, sorry," Nre replied.

_Lady Talin calls. Back to etiquette I must go!_

_Fondly,_

_Nre_

She waved the parchment in the morning breeze, hoping Cameron would forgive the blotches from her hurried writing, then folded it and tucked it into her book. She met Lady Talin at the door, looking properly chastened.

"Princess Nre! Really! I would expect more from you!" Lady Talin chided, frowning at the Princess.

"Yes, ma'am" Nre sighed, looking away from the middle aged woman and continuing inside.

* * *

"Sir, your father has a message."

Cameron looked at Daniel, the usual messenger, and gave him a curt nod to continue while he called over a stable boy to take care of his horse.

"He says to tell you that you won't be coming to the border control meeting this year."

"What?" Cameron said, whirling around to face him and not caring how improper that was. "Did he say why?"

"No, your majesty."

"Tell him I wish to meet with him, immediately," Cameron clipped.

Daniel ran off to the castle, and Cameron followed closely behind. It didn't make sense; he was the Crown Prince, and he'd gone to that meeting even since he was ten. It was the most important international meeting in Western Ladyra.

_And the only time you get to see Nre,_ he added, strictly as an afterthought. _I wonder if she is much changed from last year. She is sixteen now._

He didn't bother changing his clothing, but headed straight to his father's study, where he knew the man would be organizing papers, as he always did in the evenings. He had been told several times that he could teach a servant to do that for him, but he insisted; he said he had to know where everything was himself.

Sure enough, when Cameron arrived at the door, his father's manservant was standing outside to warn people away.

"I have an urgent matter about which I must see my father. Immediately."

The man, probably already warned by Daniel, opened the door and announced the Prince's arrival. Cameron stepped in and made his bow.

"You couldn't take a moment to change your clothes?" his father asked, raising his eyebrows. "You are so impatient, my ginger-headed child."

"Why don't you wish me to come to the meeting?" Cameron asked.

Delmun sighed; his son was too impetuous. He was nineteen. Wasn't he supposed to be settling down?

"You have more important things to attend to here," Delmun answered.

"What could possibly be more important than the border control meeting?" Cameron asked, wiping a trickle of sweat from his jaw.

"Your mother is going to be inviting ladies from all over the country to stay for a week at a time."

"Father—"

"It _is_ time for you to think about marrying, son," Delmun interrupted. They had had this discussion before.

"But I can see them before, and after. Why must it be during the meeting?" Cameron posed.

"They will be coming throughout the summer, and if you come to the meeting, you will be gone for two weeks at least. There just isn't time for you to see all of them."

"Then cut a few out," Cameron said impatiently. "This meeting is much more important."

"It's one meeting, Cameron. You can read the notes afterwards," Delmun said, unmoving.

Cameron stood, frustrated, eyes burning and his hair beginning to droop into his eyes. He pushed it away irritably.

"It's not just a meeting, father. It's the most important meeting of the entire year!"

"You're not king yet," Delmun said firmly. "You don't need to come."

"The other kings need to see my face, hear my voice, and learn to trust my ideals as much as they do yours," Cameron argued. "It won't be long before I _am_ king."

"Which is why you need a wife," Delmun said, rapping his ring on the desk. "I've tried to give you time to choose for yourself, but I just can't wait any longer. Cameron, you need to marry soon."

"This meeting—"

"Is not more important," his father interrupted, then sighed. He was tired of arguing long before Cameron was. "If you can find a suitable wife before the meeting, you may come."

"That's preposterous, father!" Cameron cried. "The snow has barely melted, and the rains are coming soon. How could anyone travel here?"

"That's for you to puzzle through," Delmun said. "I have made my statement, and that is how it shall be. The how is up to you."

Cameron left the room then, his temper flaring but his tongue in check. He knew his father was right. He'd been putting off that important task for a year, now. But, he thought it highly unfair that it should suddenly overlap with the border control meeting. It seemed a little odd, but Cameron dismissed any strange thoughts. It was coincidence.

* * *

The rest of Nre's days until the brunch passed in a whirl of planning, taste testing, arguing with Lois – Lois insisted she must wait until the day of the brunch to decide what color the Princess looked, so there was no way she could choose an outfit now – and reminders.

"Don't forget what I told you about keeping conversation," Lady Talin said as Nre was handing her letter to Simeon.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please don't forget to ask about his grandmother – the poor lady is just withering away," her mother commented after Lady Talin left.

"Yes, mother, I will remember."

"Nre–"

"Yes, I'll remember," Nre said, without looking up from her book, walking down the corridor.

Alphonse grinned and took the book away, sliding his finger in it to keep her page.

"I was going to say good luck with the Tiroe boy," he said, giving her a one-armed hug. "You'll do great, I'm sure. I judge from your response that most people have not been so encouraging?"

"No," she said vehemently, recalling the lecture Lady Talin had given her that morning on curtsies that had caused her to nearly miss lunch.

"I'm sorry," her brother said sincerely. "The first time is always the most flustered. Just try not to let it get to you."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You don't have Lois and Lady Talin following you around wherever you go. 'Oh Princess, don't forget to offer him tea!' 'Oh Princess, you must wear your new silver necklace!' 'Oh Princess, don't slurp your drink!' 'Oh Princess, Princess, _Princess!_'"

"Princess, I've just remembered that Duke Tiroe is very long winded," Lady Talin said breathlessly, materializing behind them and dropping a curtsy to them both. "You mustn't interrupt him, no matter how long he speaks."

"Yes, Lady Talin," Nre said, shooting a death glare at Alphonse, whose mouth was twitching in amusement at the red-faced lady, who had obviously hurried to Nre's side to impart that piece of knowledge.

When Lady Talin had gone, Alphonse trusted his voice to speak again.

"I see what you mean," he said gravely, handing her book back to her. "I have confidence in you, however. I know you can keep it together. Don't forget your hiding place, however. Lois knows where it is, but she won't bother you there unless it's very important. You know that."

"Oh, Alphonse!" she said delightedly, hugging him. "With everything bustling around, I'd completely forgotten. You're the best brother I've ever had."

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

"And the only one," he added.

* * *

The night before the brunch, Nre changed into her nightgown and collapsed on the bed. Only then did she realize that no reply had come yet to the letter she had given to Simeon almost a week ago.

_He must be really busy,_ she told herself, already half asleep. _It will come soon..._

* * *

Backroads**: Oh, yay! Character bonds are good. I'm glad you made that connection. Ah, I love Carvin and Faidn. -smile- I will take that review for what it's worth, and I appreciate it. -laugh-**

Duchess Delanie**: Welcome! I'm glad you're reading, and I hope you keep enjoying it. Unwilling marriages are the best for awkward situations. -laugh- Thanks for reviewing!**

Faylinn**: Ha! Yeah, Faidn is great. He probably will lose the angst at some point, but possibly not on-screen. We'll have to see... Old men really are great. In a non-creepy way. -laugh- Yup, Gloria is Nre's mother, not Carvin's. She was pretty blank the first time around, but then **Cimh **and I wrote NAPAN, and her personality bloomed. Now I'm incorporating it into the Nasap rewrite, which will hopefully make things a little better.**

**Reviewers get a popsicle if it's a warm day outside, and a mug of apple cider if it's a cold day.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **SIMBA**, for pointing out my typo!**


	4. In Which Nre Has a Bad Morning

**26 . 3 . 10**

**Wow, that was a long pause. I'm going to endeavor not to do that again.**

**Disclaimer: Much of the text in the first part of the chapter is from the original **Nasap**. Just a heads-up.**

* * *

Nre opened her eyes, yawned, and stretched. Whatever mildly pleasant dream she'd been having skittered away in the light of the early morning. Something nagged at the back of her mind. _Lois said she'd be here at eight fifteen to help me get ready for..._ She suddenly realized what day it was and shut her eyes tightly again. Too late. She was already awake.

With a groan, she rolled over, misjudging how close she was to the edge of the bed, and falling off with a yelp of surprise and a painful thump. Disentangling herself from the sheets, she heard a muffled giggle from the doorway. She whirled around to face the offender and saw her maid, Hanalee standing there.

Nre growled and shoved the blankets haphazardly onto the bed before stomping over to the basin of water and scrubbing her face. In the process, she dropped the bar of soap on the floor and managed to get it in her eyes: both of them.

As she flushed her eyes out with water and scrubbed her face dry, she thought irritably to herself, _I have a feeling that today is not going to be a very good day._ She then sat down in her chair and allowed Hanalee to brush her snarled hair.

Her hair was one of the things about her which vexed Lois most. The color was certainly not pretty, being a very dull mouse brown, and the texture was soft –almost slippery– which made it nigh impossible to put up without gluing it. Lois usually put a coloring liquid on Nre's hair whenever there was an event to attend, so no doubt she would have to endure the smelly process once more. The thought did not improve her mood.

Once her waist-length hair was brushed smooth, Hanalee left and Nre studied her reflection in the mirror and predicted what Lois would say when she arrived. "_Ah," she'll say, "You look remarkably_–" Nre took a good look at herself "–_purple this morning. Let me get that new dress your father imported from_–" Her thoughts were interrupted as the real Lois came bustling into the room. Casting a critical eye on the princess, as she always did, she remarked,

"You look decidedly purple this morning, Nre."

Nre grinned victoriously.

"Yes; I was just thinking the very thing myself."

With a disbelieving snort, Lois opened her wardrobe and began rummaging around for the right dress.

"Where is that dress your father imported from Elidine? You know the one; lavender, shortish sleeves, with that nice long train in the back– ah ha!"

She pulled the dress out and laid it atop the heap of sheets on Nre's bed.

"Now that that is decided, we must color your hair."

Nre groaned and all semblance of her fleeting good humor vanished.

"Why, Lois? It's not as if Lord Tiroe will care what color my hair is!"

"What if he does?" Lois said, motioning to Hanalee, who was carrying a basin of water and a bowl of brownish-red goop balanced expertly, into the room.

"He can deal with it," Nre said grumpily.

"Absolutely not, young lady. Now, stop whining and act your age."

Nre sighed loudly as Lois worked the slimy brown stuff through her hair. Because her hair was so long, it took nearly half of an hour just to get it all in. Then, she had to sit there with all that cold mush in her hair and listen to Lois talk to herself about the benefits of different colors for cheeks and eyes for another half hour before she finally decided what color should go where on her face and put it there.

"Wait, no, the pink definitely should not go on your eyelids," Lois muttered, stopping her hand an inch away from Nre's eye.

"Lois! I don't care! Put it on!" Nre snapped. "I'm starving, and my head is cold!"

"Nre, stop complaining. I care what you look like, and so should you!"

Nre sighed again and Lois finished applying her make up soon after. She then washed the coloring out of Nre's hair and brushed it out again, remarking how much the color had improved; it was now a tolerable dark auburn that complemented her bright blue eyes. Lois helped Nre into her dress and then spent nearly an hour deciding what to do with her hair.

Everything she tried seemed to fall out, and finally, in her exasperation, Lois piled it precariously on top of her head, covered it with a net, and slapped a white, broad brimmed hat on top of it.

"What was the point of coloring my hair if it's going to stay under a hat?" Nre grumbled.

"I didn't know it was going to be under a hat when I colored it, Nre! Would you stop griping! I swear, child..."

What she swore, however, was never found out, because she came upon a matching lavender ribbon and proceeded to tie it around the hat in a big floppy bow.

"Perfect! Now, shoes..."

She found a pair of strappy, high heeled sandals quickly and handed them to Nre, who protested.

"Lois, I–"

"Nre, put on those shoes. _N__ow._"

Nre huffily did as she was told and then ran out of the room as fast as she could manage in the high heels and with a train. The train she wrapped around her arm, baring the back of her legs almost to her knees. The servants she passed looked away quickly and pretended that they had not seen anything at all. If they were later questioned by Lois, they feigned innocence. Nre was a favorite in the palace. If not vexed, she was a most sweet and pleasant girl.

She reached the dining hall's door and smoothed herself down. A passing maid gently tucked a limp strand of hair back under the hat with a small, gleaming pin. Nre had just enough willpower to shot her a grateful smile before she entered the room, still annoyed at the morning's events, but feeling much better at the prospect of food.

"Good morning," she managed in a halfway decent tone, addressing the table at large before sliding into her seat under the reproving eye of her mother.

"Don't slide, Nre," she said.

"Yes, mother. Please pass the french toast."

Gloria sighed and pushed the platter closer to Nre. Nre picked up her fork and reached out to spear one when the lid was snapped back onto the platter. Nre looked up in surprise and saw her father holding the lid.

"Brunch is in two hours, Nre; I cannot have you spoiling your appetite."

He motioned for the servants to clear the table.

"What! I've been up for hours and I've only _just_ finished getting ready, father!" she protested.

"Next time think of the that the night before and ask for breakfast in your room."

She was about to point out that she had had no _time_ to eat, even if she had asked for breakfast in her room, but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Yes, father," she said. "If you will excuse me then, Alphonse, Marlita, Mother, Father," She stood up.

Curtsying minutely to each family member, she strode out of the room, her heels clicking angrily upon her exit. Marlita – Alphonse's wife – sighed quietly and put down her fork. Gloria glanced at her husband and opened her mouth to speak when Alphonse put a warning hand on her arm, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Gloria nodded and looked away. Oblivious to all the silent objections, Thomas kept eating.

Gloria wondered about the days when she knew her husband better than her son did.

* * *

Nre was kept busy the two hours before the expected arrival of Duke Tiroe and Lord Carvin. She had a last minute etiquette lesson with Lady Talin, got repeated instructions from everyone in the castle – excepting Alphonse and Marlita – on the proper way to respond to a request for courtship, was asked her opinion on the morning's schedule, and was fussed over by Lois at least seven times.

Given that she was quite on the verge of wishing Lord Tiroe would drop dead, she had little tolerance for all the hustle and bustle.

She suffered her way through the lesson, said "Yes, mother, I know!" more times than she cared to remember, and said the schedule was great without even looking at it.

And throughout all of this, her stomach was growling very rudely, which got her chastened (unfairly!) at least three times.

Needless to say, she was smoldering with injustice and frustration when the Tiroe carriage finally rolled up to the castle gates, right on time.

* * *

Carvin put his head on the small window of their carriage and watched the unfamiliar scenery pass by. He was incredibly bored. He had been on the road since well before dawn that morning and all day the day before. He was sick of the carriage and couldn't wait to get out and stretch his legs.

"Ah ha! There, Carvin! There it is!" his father exclaimed.

Carvin craned his neck to look out his father's window and saw the magnificent castle. His father was rambling on about something having to do with the structure's history, but Carvin was hardly listening. He was too busy taking in the sight for himself. Seeing the castle was much better than looking at the picture in his school book, that was for sure. Turrets lifted their heads regally into the sun and the grey walls sparkled happily in the light. It was bigger than he had imagined! As they approached the gate, he noticed that it had a spectacular carving of a morning glory on it.

The gate guard took note of the flag they were flying from the carriage (their family's coat-of-arms) and opened the gate with a salute and a "Good day!" yelled from the ramparts.

Carvin's excitement turned to dread when he remembered what he was there for. He rehearsed the courtship speech over again in his head, despite the fact that he had memorized several days ago and was drilled on it every morning hence.

His anxiety peaked when they entered the courtyard and saw the entire royal family – along with an assortment of servants – waiting for them. The carriage came to a smooth stop in front of the group, and Carvin waited for Markus to open his door.

The Duke's door was opened first, and he stepped out, beaming and embracing the king, who looked only a little taken aback – as if he should have known to expect it, but had forgotten. Carvin resisted the urge to wince at his father's lack of propriety. He hoped he really was as good of friends as he claimed to be with the royal family. Since Carvin had never actually seen them before, he rather doubted it. His father had a very wide definition of "friend".

Carvin was shaken from his thoughts when Duke Tiroe swept into a low bow and kissed Gloria's hand.

"I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see your face, Gloria, after all these years. You look younger than ever, as always."

Nre was surprised, as well, by the greeting; it made her forget temporarily how angry she was. She thought her mother might have even blushed! Nre made a mental note to find out any back-story between her mother and Duke Tiroe. Her father, she noticed, didn't seem overly pleased at the Duke's flamboyant greeting of his wife, and the Duke was rather dashing.

Nre discreetly examined the boy in the shadows of the carriage as best she could, beginning to feel a bit nervous. She'd almost forgotten that she was meeting her future husband that day. Curiosity and nervousness overcame anger and frustration.

The boy had modest length light brown hair with a bit of a wave in it and a bronzed complexion, but that was all she could make out until he came into the light.

Duke Tiroe kissed her hand, and she smiled pleasantly while he remarked on his pleasure to meet her again, or something of the sort. She was distracted, because at that moment, Carvin was ushered out. He was of average height, maybe a little taller, with unremarkable brown eyes and a pleasant face. He greeted her father, mother, brother, and sister-in-law, before kneeling to kiss her hand.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, your highness."

"The honor is mine," she replied dutifully, almost surprised by his homespun eloquence. She had been expecting a miniature version of Duke Tiroe. She wasn't sure what to make of him.

He smiled slightly, politely, taking note of her features in the brief glance etiquette allowed before he stood up again. She had an angular face with artfully applied make up and icy blue eyes. At the moment, they mirrored curiosity and surprise, but he had the feeling he didn't want to be under their gaze when she was annoyed.

Before he could open his mouth to say something, the King nodded at a lady servant, who walked up next to them and curtsied before speaking.

"The King wishes that you two walk in the garden to further acquaint yourselves," she said. "They will expect you in an hour."

"Thank you, Caroline," Nre said, then turned to the boy. "The gardens are this way, Lord Tiroe."

This was what she had been practicing her conversational skills for, apparently. As if she didn't know how to hold a decent conversation. Really. She'd been doing this her whole life.

She took his arm when he offered it and stole another glance at him. He was an intriguing person. He didn't look much like his father, though she could see a definite resemblance in his eyes. He was of a sturdy but slim build, as opposed to his father's skinny-gone-to-seed appearance. She supposed he must look like his mother, who had died when Carvin was younger.

"Your gardens are beautiful," Carvin said.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, glad that he had introduced the mundane topic and not she. "The gardeners love what they do."

"I would love to see what they could do with Greyson," Carvin said, absently. He was looking at the flowers.

Nre thought it a bit odd that he would care, but she supposed men were very attached to their land, which included flowers. She seized the opportunity. If he really did love Greyson, he might be interested in talking about it.

"Tell me about Greyson, Lord Tiroe," she said.

"It's... home," Carvin said, his brows coming together as he thought of a better way to describe his lifelong home. "It's on the southeast border, so it's more hilly than it is here. Not mountains, like in the north, but gentle, sloping hills. The children sled on them in the wintertime, and roll down them in the summer. The house is at the crest of a small hill, and just below it are the stables."

"And a garden?" she asked, sensing that he didn't know where to go next.

"There's a garden behind the house. It's only a small one. Dad doesn't care much for flowers, so it's mostly herbs and vegetables. It smells delicious in the summer."

"What else is there?" she prompted. It may not have been the most interesting subject, but it was better than her talking about something more boring. And besides, he had a nice voice. It was pleasantly pitched.

"There's a town to the north, and woods to the south," he said. "That's about it. It's not very captivating, but it's home."

"I should like to see hills," she said, thinking. "I've seen mountains, snowy and barren, but not hills, other than paintings. Are they pleasant?"

"Oh, very," Carvin said. "Especially on a warm day. They are a good place to sit, and think, and watch the world go by."

"Hm," Nre said, enjoying that thought. "So, when you're not sitting on hills, what do you like to do?"

"Swordplay, archery, horsemanship: all the noble pastimes," Carvin said with a grin. "And that will be much more boring to hear about than my house, I promise."

She laughed, feeling at ease with him. He seemed much more relaxed than the other nobles. It was less effort to keep a conversation going.

"Dare I ask what you do in your free time?" Carvin said with a chuckle.

"The proper response would be, 'Embroidering and learning how to pour tea,'" Nre said.

"And the honest answer...?"

"I like to read," she said unabashedly. "I think it's silly that men should monopolize such an enjoyable hobby when half of them are busy doing other things, anyway."

"I think you have a good point," Carvin said. "Most men don't like to read, you know."

"Do you?"

"Only a little."

"Have you read any Fidoglio?"

"I can't say that I have," he replied after a moment's thought.

"Pity."

"What does he write?" he queried.

"Mostly adventure stories. They're classics, you know," she said.

"Classics? Why is that?"

"Well, why not?"

"Who decides they're classics?"

"Blast me if I know," Nre responded, then winced at her slip of speech. She resisted the paranoid urge to glance over her shoulder to see if Lady Talin was watching.

Carvin didn't seem to notice. He was too intent on his point.

"Someone has to decide," he said. "Do they call them 'classics' just because they like them?"

"There's got to be some sort of criteria," Nre started slowly.

"No, but that's just it," Carvin said, gesturing firmly with his free hand. "They're the ones who come up with the criteria in the first place. We just take them at their word."

"You're probably right," Nre said after considering his point. "But, I like the books, so I'm not complaining."

"That's all that really matters, I suppose," Carvin said, smiling at her.

"You must read them," Nre insisted. "They're not stupid girly-books, honestly. William doesn't fall in love at all until the third book, and then it's more of an instant bond. And anyway, they're too busy fighting off the Druarya to be mushy-gushy, so really, it's perfect."

"Perfect, eh?" Carvin said, not sounding fully convinced.

"Oh come on, listen; I'll tell you what it's about," Nre said.

She spent the next ten minutes summarizing the first book of William's adventures. By the time the maid quietly reminded them it was time to head inside, Nre had won Carvin over.

"Alright, alright," he conceded. "I'll read your books."

_Faidn will think I'm mad, but they actually sound interesting._

"Hurrah! I've won!" Nre said smugly, but with a broad grin. "Now it's time for my victory lunch."

"I thought it was brunch."

"Brunch, then," Nre laughed. "It's all the same, anyway."

"Princess," Lois said, appearing at the door. "We must freshen your attire before brunch."

The two of them looked at each other, and laughed.

* * *

**So that conversation was entirely new, I think. Thoughts on the rewrite so far?**

Backroads**: She is indeed. She's no tomboy princess, that's for sure. --grin-- Thanks!**

Captain**: Mm, traveling. I like traveling. Wait, why did you go north for spring break? That seems rather counter-intuitive. --strange look-- Hmm, I'd never thought of that before. I'll keep that in mind for the future, but I don't think that would fit well in the style of this story. I mean, it is rather childish, anyway, and that's on purpose. Honestly I didn't give much thought to my tags. I just sort of imagine how they would say it, and I either make it abundantly clear in the dialogue itself, or else add a tag. Hum. You've given me something to consider. I'm glad you like it, though. --chuckle--**

Duchess Delanie**: Nre is quite a character. --smile-- Interesting theory... you might want to hold on to that.**

Raenad**: Well, I'm glad you liked it better the second time around. I do hope it's at least marginally better, with all the work I'm putting into it. --laugh-- And I love that word! I try not to overuse it. o.O**

**Reviewers get a container of Oreos© !**


	5. In Which Things Get Awkward

**20 . 4 . 10**

**And another three weeks has blown by without my permission. Much apologies for the lateness. -sigh-**

**Disclaimer: Some of this was written in a bit of crunch. Let me know if you see any weird OOC moments or awkward transitions.****  
**

* * *

"How did it go, Vin?" Jared asked in Carvin's ear as they were seated. "I heard laughter, or I thought I did. That's good, good, very good. Laughing is very promising indeed."

"I think it went well," Carvin said with a small smile. "Very well, actually."

"Splendid!" his father said happily. "A nice strong beginning is a good start to anything, especially—well, anything, of course. You haven't forgotten your dialogue, then, Carvin? I'll nudge you when it's time. It's very important. Tradition, you know, dating all the way back to—"

"Yes, I've got it," Carvin said, the lingering smile melting into a frown as he ran through the lines again in his head.

He knew the dialogue so well he could almost say it backwards, but the thought of actually saying it was a bit nerve-wracking. Then he thought of her sparkling laugh and easy smile in the garden; maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Jared turned to the king and began discussing a political issue, but the king appeared a little distracted. He kept glancing at Carvin, who was oblivious to this attention, due to Alphonse striking up a conversation with him across the table. Gloria and Marlita were talking about the curtains in the sewing room from their places across the table, as well.

Nre entered the hall, then, interrupting the quiet discussions. Carvin and his father rose from their seats as she entered the room. She acknowledged them both with a small curtsey before sitting in her appointed spot to the left of her mother. Carvin noticed that the maid had traded in the sun hat for a jeweled tiara. Her hair was in loose curls down her back.

Carvin and his father sat, and the servants brought forth the first course after Nre took her seat next to Marlita and Alphonse. The courses kept coming and Carvin ate with relish; this was the best food he had ever tasted. He noticed that Nre also ate with gusto, though she tried to hide that fact by taking several small helpings. Obviously, she was hungry.

He noted that she did not carry on conversation very well during the meal, as etiquette demanded, but he didn't mind. He always thought it was silly to talk during meals, anyway. He was often caught with his mouth full of food, and it was embarrassing to have a pause whilst you swallowed.

She did manage to catch his eyes and smile over the biscuits, though, which was heartening. After the parfaits had been cleared away, he got a subtle nudge from his father. The conversation at the end of the table was lulling, so Carvin seized his chance.

_No time to feel nervous. Just do it like you practiced,_ he told himself, pushing his chair back. The ceremony had now officially begun; the walk to Nre's seat was longer than he'd thought possible, for such a short distance around the table.

He did finally make it to her chair, where he knelt. He paused a moment. She slipped her hand between his and gave him a tight smile. She was nervous, too.

"My Lady Nre; I would like to humbly ask for your hand in courtship so that I may prove myself a worthy partner in marriage," Carvin recited. He heard faint echoes of his voice trill across the marble room.

Nre placed her other hand on top of his and said her part, looking at their interlocked hands.

"My Lord Carvin; I would be most honored to accept your request, if only you would ask my mother and father."

Her voice did not tremble with nervousness. It was cool and smooth. Carvin stood to his feet, and Nre stood as well. He raised her hand and kissed it; it was cool and smooth, like her voice.

"I would dream of nothing less."

They both turned to face her parents, hands falling naturally, linked, between them.

"King Thomas, Queen Gloria; would you find it in your hearts to grant me my desire? The fulfillment of my life lies in the person whose hand I now hold, and I would be forever grateful if you would give your blessing to our courtship."

Queen Gloria stood, saying her part.

"I would gladly grant you her hand, if my husband would agree."

King Thomas stood.

"I believe this to be an excellent match, and give my consent and blessing to your courtship."

Carvin and Nre bowed. Then, the ceremony was over. They quickly let go of each other's hand, but they didn't have trouble falling back into conversation once they left the dining hall to go on another walk in the gardens.

"Show him the iris field," the queen hinted, smiling at them.

"A field? Of irises?" Carvin said in disbelief.

"Oh, yes! It's lovely. Come on!" Nre said with a grin, taking his arm and leading him forcefully out the door.

Carvin caught his father's eye over his shoulder and smiled widely. His father winked.

"Children will do as children will do, won't they?" the man said after the pair had left.

"They will," Gloria said with a small smile, glancing at her husband who was looking with too much interest at the food on his plate. "Children..."

"Shall we take a walk as well?" Duke Tiroe suggested, noticing for the first time the preoccupation in Gloria's voice. "You and Thomas and I, I mean, to talk over the terms and implication and discuss—"

"You two can walk," Thomas interrupted, standing up suddenly.

Gloria started a little at the abruptness and began to stand as well, but Thomas put a hand out to stop her. His hand stopped an inch short of her arm.

"I have—business to attend to," he said shortly, and then he walked out of the room.

Duke Tiroe waited until the doors swung shut with a thud before he spoke again. His voice was softer.

"Is everything alright, Gloria?"

Gloria, who was still in a hunched position, half-risen and half-sitting, froze for a mere second, then smiled wanly at him.

"No, Jared. It's not."

The man rose from his chair and walked around the table until he was standing by Gloria's chair. He held out a hand, and Gloria took it, allowing him to guide her to her feet. There was a breath of a moment when their eyes met, and then Jared folded his childhood friend into a warm embrace. Gloria collapsed into the comforting arms and closed her eyes, allowing herself to be at peace for a moment.

Then she stepped back and breathed in.

"Let's take a walk, old friend. We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

"That is most definitely a field of irises."

Nre laughed and jostled Carvin good-naturedly with her shoulder: a more friendly gesture than was perhaps completely appropriate.

"Thank you. I _had_ been wondering what this was."

Carvin laughed. Nre thought it sounded nice.

"So, why...?"

"My great, great grandmother loved them," Nre explained; she'd obviously answered this question many times before. "Her husband planted this field for her. Every daughter since then has fallen in love with the field, so no king has had the heart to get rid of it."

She chuckled a little, touching the top of an iris with the tip of her fingers.

"You can imagine how much work goes in to keeping an entire field of irises healthy, but..."

Carvin just smiled in response; he was looking at Nre. The flower's purple head bobbed against her hand like an expectant puppy. It struck him then that she wasn't very pretty, ordinarily, but here with the irises – she looked beautiful. She glanced at him.

"What?" she said, self-conscious now she realized he'd been looking at her.

"The field is lovely," he said, shifting his gaze out to the nodding flowers. "I can see why you love it."

"I suppose it's in my blood," she said, pulling her hand back from the flower but still gazing over the field. "This field is my little patch of the earth."

Her feet began to wander again, so he followed suit, leaving the undulating purple in their wake.

They began to talk of their childhood and friends, which led to many amusing stories of Alphonse and Faidn, both. They swapped memories of getting in trouble for the first time, getting caught out of bounds, sneaking out after curfew, and climbing on the roof. By the time he left, Nre was in high spirits. The only thing that stayed her smile as she lay down to sleep was the question she'd been trying not to think of.

_Where is Cameron's letter?_

* * *

**What do you think about the old and new styles and how they play together? Feedback, please! **

Faylinn**: Haha! Really? Purple hair? That's fantastic. Nre would be pretty fabulous with purple hair... -Cadmus grins evilly and starts painting- Nrevin. That's delightfully disgusting. -laugh- Ah, Fidoglio wrote the books that Roddy reads in **_**I Do **_**later. He didn't write the book in Jab. That was someone else. **

Backroads**: Gloria's a good character to like. She'll be more of a major character in the rewrite than she was in the original, so it's alright. -grin- I'm glad you like my characters! They're rather dear to my heart as well, as I'm sure you can imagine, after three years getting to know them. -smile- **

EVA**: Oh, Faidn. I love him at this age, before he's tainted by the ruthlessness of the world in earnest. -grin- He's just so full of life! And very optimistic, as you say. I agree: boys talking about serious matters is just so heartening compared to girls talking about serious matters. Poor Nre really needs a friend. I'm glad she finds a friend in Iriana later. -smile- Yeah, the Gloria/Thomas element is very interesting, because we see the silly/sappy side of their relationship in NAPAN, and now we kind of see the aftermath of many years of marriage. We never really saw them in their element. Lots of implications and inferences have to be made.**

**Please review! I'll give you a delicious all-fruit popsicle!**


	6. In Which Everyone Ponders

**2 . 5 . 10**

**I managed to get this chapter up in two weeks – a minor miracle, all things considering. **

**For those of you who don't know, On April 23****rd****, my sister (**Cimh**, if you knew her on ) committed suicide. It's been a long week and half since that awful Friday night, and we have a long road ahead of us as a family.**

**I considered putting Nasap on hiatus for a while, but then I realized that I need to keep writing. It's always been an escape for me, which is something I desperately need right about now with my whole life getting turned around and upside down. God gave me this hobby because he knew I needed a stress reliever, so there's no way I can drop it now.**

**However, with everything being such a mess, I hope you understand if I don't update as regularly as I should like. I might update often, or I might not. At this moment, I really don't know what I'll be doing. I just thought you deserved a heads-up.**

**And, if you could pray for my family, and **Cimh**'s boyfriend and best friend (they're both falling to pieces) I would really appreciate it. We'll take all the prayers we can get.**

**Sorry to dump all of that on you. I hope you can continue to enjoy the story and give me some feedback. Thanks, guys.**

**Disclaimer: Gloria and her personality will forever belong to **Cimh**.**

* * *

Nre settled into the middle of the iris field, a book in hand. With a happy sigh, she removed her shoes and lay down on her stomach on the fuzzy grass that spread between the flowers in the field. She opened the book to the place where her thin, red ribbon had kept, and then she began to read.

Alphonse soon appeared with a book of his own. Nre didn't look up; he took that as affirmation and sat next to her. They sat and read for an hour at least without speaking. The sun began to edge from its zenith, toward the west. Clouds drifted across the skies, breaking the monotony of the dazzling blue and offering brief respites from the sun's rays. The day was warm, and the air was slightly damp. The snows had melted. The world was waking up from its icy sleep.

"Was it as bad as they made it sound?" Alphonse rumbled, not looking up from his book.

"No," Nre answered briefly, eyes still absorbing the story in front of her. "He was nice."

"Just nice?"

She thought about it, tilting her head and looking up at the clouds.

"Yes," she decided finally. "Just nice."

"He didn't sweep you off your feet, then?" Alphonse deduced, looking at her with a perfunctory smile.

"No," she said with emphasis, "but he was polite, and he was interesting. I think we might be friends."

Alphonse didn't say anything. They kept reading until Nre spoke again.

"When is the border control meeting?"

"The twelfth of March," Alphonse replied, looking at her curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," she mumbled, looking back at the book.

"I hear Lord Tiroe will be coming here more often," Alphonse said. "He's coming back next week, isn't he?"

"I suppose so," Nre said, reading. Alphonse soon gave up talking and continued to read as well.

Nre rested her feet on top of his comfortably, and they both enjoyed the afternoon until Nre noted that it was time to get dressed for dinner. Alphonse agreed with her, and they both continued to lie in the grass for at least another ten minutes. Then, with a sigh, Alphonse shut his book and got to his feet, holding out a hand for Nre. She closed her book with a matching sigh and took his hand, hauling herself to her feet.

They walked into the castle together, but when Nre turned toward the stairs, Alphonse walked straight for the Queen's study. He knocked softly to be polite, then walked in. Gloria was writing a letter at her desk, but she put it away as soon as he walked in.

"So?" she questioned.

"She seems very noncommittal about the entire thing," Alphonse said, walking to the desk and putting his hands on it. "She doesn't dislike Carvin, but she doesn't seem to be overly attracted to him."

"I wouldn't expect Nre to be overly attracted to anyone upon meeting them for the first time," Gloria said with a small smile. "She's much like you and your father in that regard. She has to weigh them and count them worthy of existence before she'll move on to trivial things like relationships."

"She did say that she thought they were friends," Alphonse added. "That's a start."

"Did she mention Prince Cameron at all?" Gloria asked, ignoring his optimistic comment.

Whatever happened, Nre would be alright. That's not what she was worried about.

"Of Grendath? She asked when the border control meeting was, but that's all she mentioned other than answering my questions about Carvin," Alphonse said. "Why? Do you think they have a ..."

"I don't know what I think," Gloria said, pulling on a strand of hair. "But if my suspicions are right, Cameron will not be at the meeting this year. I believe your father disapproves of Cameron as a suitor, though I'll be hanged if I know why."

"There could be thousands of reasons," Alphonse defended, a little uneasy at his mother's sudden steely tone. "It's always dangerous, joining royalty from different countries. There is always the tension and instability that comes with the possibility of the two separate countries being merged."

"Why doesn't he just say that, then, instead of pushing Nre into marriage with Jared's son?" Gloria said, her steeliness ebbing to hopeless frustration. "Nre would understand that, and she would obey. She's disturbingly logical at times, though a little rebellious in these teenage years."

Alphonse just shrugged.

"Maybe it's not just that. Maybe there's more he hasn't told you."

"More that he hasn't told me," Gloria sighed. "That seems to be the story of my life with him. He'll tell me anything in the world after it's over and done with – after _he's_ handled it – but not while he's still working through it. I swear that man is as bull-headedly independent as he was when he was a teenager himself."

"He might have learned a thing or two from you," Alphonse said, repressing a grin.

She just scowled at him good-naturedly and went back to her letter. Alphonse took that as his cue to leave and stepped out the door. Gloria stopped writing once he'd left and dusted her chin with the quill feather. What other reasons did Thomas have that he wasn't saying? Jared had said the same thing when they'd talked earlier, and he'd suggested that she just _ask_ Thomas what was going on.

Gloria decided that she would ask him that night. She then continued to write her letter, pretending that asking Thomas about Nre wouldn't be the first direct statement she would make to him in weeks. She also pretended that the thought of doing so didn't frighten her nearly as much as it did.

* * *

Carvin walked out of his house with his bow and quiver over his shoulder, thinking, while his feet retraced the familiar path to the archery range. He yawned involuntarily, tired from the long ride home.

"Vin!"

A hand whooshed in front of his face and Carvin jerked in surprise. He'd forgotten that Faidn was right beside him, talking about something.

"What?" he asked, looking over at his friend.

Faidn looked disgusted.

"This is the third time I've asked you how the meeting went, but I guess it's safe to assume it went splendidly, since you've obviously lost your mind."

"No, I wasn't thinking about the Princess." Carvin hesitated. "Actually I was, but not like that."

Faidn rolled his eyes but couldn't stop a grin from crooking the corner of his mouth.

"Sure, Vin, whatever you say," Faidn said.

"No, really," Carvin insisted. "I was actually thinking—do you want to come with me next time?"

Faidn's eyebrows disappeared into his dark hair that was badly in need of a trim.

"What happened to not being able to take me anywhere?" he asked. "Did you finally realize that I'm the more charming of the pair?"

"Sure," Carvin said, rolling his eyes. "You'd have to come as my servant, though."

Faidn shrugged. That didn't bother him.

"When do we leave?"

"Next week," Carvin replied. "And... we'll be gone for at least two months. You'll be paid for this, of course."

"I get to travel, and I get paid in the deal," Faidn said, grinning and punching Carvin in the arm. "Sounds perfect."

He paused a moment, a frown setting on his face. It looked unnatural there: dark and somber in a way that Faidn rarely was.

"D'you mind..."

"What?" Carvin asked, watching his friend's change of mood closely.

"Well, Da's having a hard season hunting," Faidn said uncomfortably. "Could you—pay half my wage to Mum before we leave?"

"Oh, yeah," Carvin said, a little awkwardly.

"Thanks," Faidn said, all smiles again. "So, I take it the ice princess thawed for you?"

"She was nice," Carvin responded immediately. "I think we got along."

"She didn't seem deranged, did she?" Faidn asked in mock seriousness.

Carvin shoved Faidn and laughed.

"No, she was normal."

"I'll judge that myself," Faidn said with a humph. "My bet is on closet pyromaniac. She seems the type."

"You've never even met her," Carvin pointed out, rolling his eyes.

"If she sets her bridal bouquet on fire, I'm going to say 'I told you so.'"

"I'll try to remember to keep her away from matches," Carvin intoned sarcastically, shooting an arrow into the target and hitting the outer ring.

Faidn kept a lively dialogue running, but in his mind, Carvin was wondering how the next two months were going to work out. His stomach did a funny jump when he realized he'd be spending almost every day with Nre, talking, or not talking, or anything. There were a lot of possibilities.

He smiled and shot an arrow into the bulls-eye.

* * *

Cameron leaned out the window, wishing he could fly. Behind him, the cool breeze shuffled the papers strewn about his desk messily. Engravings of faces were half-hidden under paper full of tight, neat script – his father's personal handiwork. A servant had dropped them off earlier, but Cameron hadn't even glanced at them. His mind was filled with the thought of one girl only: Nre Windham.

She was funny, practical, and sweet. He'd heard others mutter that she wasn't very pretty, but he didn't think she needed to be pretty. She was a pretty person. She was someone he could imagine living with in twenty years, which was more than he could say for most of the women listed on the papers on his desk. They'd been friends since they could write, practically, and she was one of the few people he thought he actually knew. Most people put on a front, but Nre didn't. And when he was around her, he didn't put up a front, either.

He was too angry when he argued with his father before to even mention Nre as a candidate, which was stupid in hindsight. However, he put that behind him and approached his father once more with his new plan: to take the time he would be in Berensia at the border control conference as his time with Nre, as a marriage candidate.

Delmun, it seemed, did not see things the same way.

"No," he said without looking up from the palace menu he was perusing.

"Why?" Cameron said, almost without thinking.

"The negotiations would be a headache," Delmun said matter-of-factly. "You're only saying that because you're trying to get out of what we agreed on."

"_We_ didn't agree," Cameron snapped. "_You_ agreed."

Delmun ignored the comment and continued looking at the menu. He scratched out something.

"What if I'm not just trying to get out of it?" Cameron said.

"That's a moot point, considering that you are," Delmun said, somewhat uselessly, since he happened to know that his son had been lovestruck for weeks. Nevertheless, he kept a stern face.

"But I'm _not_," Cameron said testily, wondering why he and his father couldn't operate on the same level. "I want to consider her as a candidate for marriage."

Delmun gave him a hard look, as if trying to tell if his son was lying or not. Cameron glared at him.

"I'm not lying. Is it that crazy that I thought of Nre? There are a lot of benefits in marrying a princess, and I've known her since I was a kid."

"You've known each other through _letters_," his father clarified, "which is not exactly the same."

Cameron rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I didn't say I was going to go _propose_ right _now. _I said that I wanted to consider her. The week at the conference could be my week with her."

A tingly feeling lurched through him as he realized he would have a whole week with her – and a week focused on them, together. He found he liked that idea. A lot.

His father's voice snapped him back.

"I don't think you realize the amount of meetings necessary to even begin that type of talk."

"I'll schedule them. I'll ride through the mud to get to them. I'll do whatever it takes," Cameron volunteered.

"They won't want to join the countries together," Delmun said.

"She's not the Crown Princess," Cameron reminded him.

"But if anything happens to Prince Alphonse—"

"We'll discuss hereditary and sovereignty," Cameron interrupted.

"She's from a different culture."

"Not _that_ different," Cameron said irritably. His father kept throwing up pointless blockades. "And we'll work out any differences that are relevant to our situation, _if_ we agree that marrying her would be the best choice—"

"You have to have answers to all these questions, and more" Delmun said coldly. He was annoyed. "You're not ready for this. Find a Grendathian noble."

"But I _l—ike_ Nre," Cameron said vehemently, the word dangerously close to slipping to another one as her spoke it. "I'll get the answers, if that's what it takes."

"You think you like her," his father said. "You hardly know her."

"I know her better than most people," Cameron disagreed.

Delmun saw that the argument was going nowhere. He sighed.

"Her father has other intentions for her," he said simply.

"You could have said that from the beginning!" Cameron shouted in exasperation. Then he paused, taken aback. "But – why didn't she mention that in her letters?"

"Don't raise your voice at me, Cameron," his father said quietly; a warning glinted in his eyes.

Cameron didn't say another word, but he wanted dearly to lash out at his father, unfair though it seemed. He walked out of the room and shut the door very firmly behind him.

Hearing that Nre was destined for someone else made him angry: angrier than he could remember being. He could barely see straight. He almost followed his first instinct and rode off to Berensia himself to demand an explanation, or challenge the man to a duel. Only running into Iriana kept him from doing something so rash.

"Cam!" she grinned, hugging him far too tightly around his middle.

"Not now, Ana," he fumed, peeling her arms away and stalking down the corridor.

"But Cam," Iriana started, unfazed. She was used to seeing her brother in moods, "I need your help!"

"Not _now_," he repeated, walking faster.

She ran to catch up with him, grabbing his wrist.

"Please, Cam? No one else will help me!"

"With what?" he asked with a sigh, turning toward her.

"I need to practice fencing," she pouted, turning her big green eyes on him. "Please?"

"It's late—"

"Pleeeaaase?" she begged.

She blinked pitifully a few times for good measure. Being eleven and petite did wonderful things for her. Cameron rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he agreed shortly.

Iriana grinned and took his hand, dragging him out to the fencing yard. Cameron learned quickly why no one would fence with her. She was terrible, and she was terrible at following directions. Cameron knew how to explain things in a way that she would understand, though; her fencing was much improved by the end of the hour.

"Wait 'til I tell Papa!" Iriana said happily, bouncing as she hugged Cameron again. "Thank you!"

"No problem, kiddo," Cameron said with a grin as he gave her a light noogie.

She squealed, smacked his hand, then dashed away to inform her father of her newest conquest. Cameron went back to his room in a much better mood than he had been earlier that day. He resolutely ignored his desk and attempted not to think of Nre for the rest of the evening. It was hard; discussing her so much had made him realize how much he missed her. Even still, he endeavored to think of other things until he drifted to sleep.

Dreaming about her definitely didn't count.

* * *

**Opinions?**

Backroads**: Thanks! I'm trying to work on the pacing – my chapters in the original were a lot shorter, so it's a crazy mix of condensing multiple chapters into one chapter and expanding sections to make it longer. What a mess!**

Faylinn**: Hahaha! Oh, you're silly. --laugh-- I love the iris field. I want one.**

EVA**: It really is; that's what I like about it. --smile-- Yup, I know what you mean entirely. And he's such a sweetheart. Ah, Jared. I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

**Reviewers get nachos!**


	7. In Which Plans Are Made

**8 . 9 . 10**

**Wow, look who's made a reappearance. What's her name again? What was this story even about? Hmm…**

**Sorry, but my summer was literally booked 24/7. And I know this chapter is probably sub-par, but to be honest, I'm tired of looking at it. So I'm posting it so I can get onto the more interesting bits – like the border control conference.**

**Also, today is "To Write Love On Her Arms" day, to recognize National Suicide Prevention Week. I have a fat purple Love on my arm, and **Cimh**'s name beside it. Thanks again for all your thoughts and prayers; we need them, every single day.**

* * *

Gloria put a stitch in her sampler, then sighed and pulled it out for the fourth time. She was too distracted to even stitch properly, which was just embarrassing. She couldn't get Jared's conversation out of her mind. Having a proper conversation with someone her own age, and one of her best friends at that, had only reminded her of the closeness she used to have with Thomas. Jared's casual suggestion to simply ask Thomas why he wanted Nre to marry Carvin instead of Cameron had seemed very plausible when she was talking with him. But now, Jared had left, and she was back to doing the same thing she did every night. She sat on her chair in her nightclothes, doing a bit of sewing before bed, while Thomas sat at his desk in his nightclothes, reading another chapter of a book. They were both silent.

Gloria remembered when these calming hours of the day would end with Thomas finishing his chapter and complaining that she'd be up half the night with her sewing. She would argue that she wouldn't, but he would always walk over and kiss her neck, tickling her with his whiskers, until she finally agreed to turn out the light and go to bed. Now, she would tire of her sewing long before he finished reading, and she would fall asleep alone, with the warm light glowing from his desk lamp.

She undid her stitch for the seventh time, and then decided she was through reminiscing and was actually going to do something. She put her sewing down on the small table beside her chair and thought of what to do; she had a fleeting image of flipping the book out of his hands, like she used to do all the time when they were younger. She shook her head. Small steps.

"Thomas?"

She was glad her voice sounded much more confident than she felt.

"Mm?"

He was preoccupied with his book still; he sounded much more at ease than he did normally: much less tense. Maybe now was a good time, in fact.

"Tommy, I—" she started, surprising herself with the soft nickname she hadn't said in years. "I was wondering if we could—talk."

He looked up from his book and glanced at her.

"What about, Gloria?"

He sounded guarded again, but she didn't let that stop her.

"About Nre."

"What about Nre?"

He sounded even more guarded now. It was starting to annoy her.

"Don't play games with me, Thomas," Gloria said impatiently, standing up and folding her arms. "You know very well what I want to talk about regarding Nre."

"How can I? You don't tell me what you do or don't want to talk about," Thomas said, his voice picking up a bit of pointedness.

"Well, I am now," Gloria retorted.

"No, you're not," Thomas pointed out, calmly.

"The marriage, Tom," she said, frustrated. This conversation was not going at all the way she hoped it would.

"What about the marriage?"

"For the love of—" She cut herself short. Thomas had remained perfectly calm throughout this encounter, and she wasn't about to be blamed as the childish one. "Why did you arrange a marriage between Carvin and Nre? Why didn't you let her and Cameron figure out wherever it was their friendship was leading? And, most importantly… why didn't you talk with me about any of this while you were deciding it?"

She'd started out sharply, but by the time she'd made it to the last question, she was very meek. Thomas's stoic silence quickly beat down any frustration and made her feel uncomfortable.

"I have many meetings with men of all types, and through those meetings, I learned some information that helped me to decide that a relationship between Cameron and Nre could be disastrous. Based on the information I gathered of the other eligible gentlemen, I decided that Nre would be best suited with Carvin. And, judging by the events of their meeting, I would say I've been proven right."

Thomas finished very calmly, then started to turn back to his book.

"Wait," Gloria said, taking a few steps toward him. "Why didn't you tell me this before? I want to be on your side, but… I don't know what side you're on anymore."

"I didn't think you needed to worry your head about it," he said, with just a bit of a smile: one that convinced Gloria of nothing.

"But you're worried about it," she ventured, walking until she was standing next to him. "I still know you, Tom. Why are you worried?"

"I'm not worried, Gloria."

"Tom." She put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm _not worried,_" he said, stiffening at her touch.

She drew her hand back quickly, the warmth on her palm already a memory.

"Well, if you decide I can handle it, _your highness,_ I want to help you," she said, her hurt curling into a sarcastic jab.

He didn't respond. She didn't expect him to.

* * *

Cameron paced his room. At first he was walking because he was too angry to be still, but even after his temper cooled, he kept moving with a restless energy that was apparent in the rest of his chamber. Clothes lay haphazardly on a chair, and his bed was unmade and messy – evidence that he had allowed no servants in the room since receiving the news about Nre. A children's picture book had toppled from the bed to the floor, where it lay facedown with pages crinkled; Iriana had crawled into bed with him last night after a bad dream, and she would only sleep after he read her favorite book _(Flipsy Runs The Race)_ at least twice.

As he paced, he wracked his mind to come up with the perfect plan. He knew he had to be careful, or he'd ruin everything. Firstly, he had to convince his father to let him go to the meeting. He knew that was just a matter of wearing down his father's defenses. The second part of the plan was the more tricky part: he had to convince both Nre and her father that he was a much better suitor than… whoever it was she was currently involved with. (He made a mental note to find out who it was and get as much information on him as possible.)

With the news of Nre's suitor, he had suddenly found himself thrust in this altogether new position of having to defend his unofficial claim on Nre – a claim he couldn't remember even caring to note until it was threatened by this mysterious suitor. Once he realized how much he cared about Nre, however, he wasn't going to give up without a fight.

He hadn't eaten or left his room all day, he was focused so completely on his predicament. Though he was normally given to impetuous action, after he quelled the urge to jump on Aedan and ride to Berensia, his mind was strangely calm. He devised and discarded options, searching for the foolproof plan he knew he could find if he thought hard enough. He had ten years of friendship on his side, and that had to count for something. There was no way he was letting Nre slip through his fingers.

He would do whatever it took to win her heart and her hand.

The week at the meeting was going to be a battle of wills between himself, Nre's suitor, and King Thomas. Cameron was confident that he would come out on top; whenever it came to a battle of wills, he always won.

Although he was perhaps a bit overconfident, that was Cameron's way. He was stubborn, impetuous, and strong-willed, but sincere and soft-hearted to a fault. It was no wonder that hundreds of miles away at that moment, Nre was lying in bed thinking of him with a smile on her face.

* * *

The moonlight shone through the window with an eerie glow, catching the thin curtains and lighting them like ghosts in the soft night breeze. Nre shivered and snuggled under her coverlet, allowing herself to be frightened by the display, then smiled. Last year at the border control conference, she and Cameron had stayed up all night talking about the silliest things. She thought that might have been when she really started falling for him.

He always appeared strong, capable, and in-charge, but through that long conversation she had seen his softer side. He had a real compassion for the weak that startled her – he seemed like the type who wouldn't notice the hurting or the castaways. But in that, she had judged him wrong; he had even been partially responsible for the catastrophe aid Grendath provided to her people during emergencies. She had been easily imagining him into her future; she couldn't think of anyone she could like more. There was Carvin now, but she just didn't feel the same sort of connection that she felt with Cameron. Of course, that might be because she'd known Cameron ten years longer…

She frowned and stopped thinking about that; it was getting too complicated. Instead, she considered again that she had not received a letter from Cameron yet, and wondered what might be holding up his usually prompt response. Perhaps he was preparing for the border control conference – she smiled at that thought. It was coming up soon, and she couldn't wait to see him again.

Then she realized with a sudden gasp that Carvin would be at the castle as well. That just might be a first-rate mess. She didn't think Carvin and Cameron would get along very well, judging by what little she knew of Carvin and all that she knew of Cameron – plus what she knew of noblemen's actions in the presence of ladies. It always seemed they were less patient with each other when women were around, which didn't make a lot of sense in Nre's thinking, as it tended to lower the women's opinions of the men instead of raising them.

Nevertheless, Nre was about to have two such noblemen on her hands for a solid week. She groaned into her pillow.

* * *

Backroads**: To be honest, I've had a lot of trouble ironing Cameron down, so I'm glad you like him despite this. I've been mulling his character over a lot, though, and I think I'm getting a better feel for him. Hopefully you'll continue to like him in the future. Thanks for the prayers; they mean a lot to me.**

Mazzie**: Ahahahaha, chibi Faidn. What an excellent idea. I might see if I can get **Pename** to draw a chibi of him. Hem, I can't tell you whether or not Thomas and Gloria's marriage works out, now can I? Don't be silly.**

Captain**: Thanks for the con/crit. I'ma be real with you: I don't know how much of it I'm going to follow, just because I think it messes with my style, and since I'm not publishing, I'm going to be selfish and do it my way. Not to be pig-headed, but just to be … intentionally wrong, I suppose? Heh. Moving on. I'm glad you enjoyed my "loaded sentence" which was only slightly loaded on purpose, and probably a lot more by accident. Haha.**

Lady Thorne**: Um… because I have severe issues as I'm trying to rewrite this blasted thing, and that slipped my notice. x.x I'll fix it, promise. Just not now, because if I don't publish this chapter now, I'll scream.**

Leaf**: Ha, my style in the first version was terrible. I can't say this go-round is a lot better, but it is at least a little bit better. Heh. I am trying to make this rewrite mostly a fleshing-out of the original, but there are going to be a few new scenarios that didn't occur in the original – such as the border control meeting, which I feel like is pretty necessary for further characterization before the adventure begins. I'm glad you're enjoying it!**

**Reviewers get Sweet Tarts!**


	8. In Which Faidn Goes Crazy

**29 . 9 . 10**

**Okay. A note before we head into the chapter: **

**So I don't know how many of you know this, but my computer has been on the ragged edge of dying for about a year now. As a result, I've kept most files on my flash drive, to be sure they wouldn't be lost if my computer died. Recently, however, my flashdrive has decided to stop working. I actually have most of my story saved on the computer as well (by some miracle) but I am missing a lot of the re-ordering work that I did, to clean up some of the repeated-section-issues I've been having. **

**Long story short, I'm really hoping I can recover the files from my flash drive and fix up the chapters, but if not, the inconsistencies are just going to have to stay there for a while until I have the time and brainpower to think everything through again. Thanks for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy this next installment.**

* * *

"How close are we?"

The voice was impatient, dangerous with what he suspected was madness. Nevertheless, he couldn't help a sarcastic retort. He was used to the peril after so long.

"Did you call me here just to ask me that? You know I don't run your errands."

"Then what good are you?"

"Obviously none; isn't that your point?" He spat contemptuously.

"Go make sure the situation goes according to plan."

"Is that a command?"

"Do what I say, you wretched thing!"

"No."

And he disappeared.

The man cursed under his breath, annoyed but grumblingly accustomed to such a response. His investment in a fiari had done him very little good so far, and he was almost considering using the last wish just so the blasted man wouldn't aggravate him anymore. But, fiari powers were too strong to trifle with, and he might need a wish if things kept going the way they were heading at the moment.

With a frown, he mulled over the letters he'd confiscated. Through the many different channels of information he'd set up, it seemed that there was hitch in the plan. Someone had to have followed the genealogies as he had and come to the same conclusion – a long and thankless task, but not an unlikely one for a bored scribe in the peaceful West. He cursed the studious bookman that was almost his demise and leaned forward, letting his fingers brush the signature of the King of Berensia as he thought of what to do next.

Knowing the heedlessness of youth and the strength of the spell already cast, it was likely that he wouldn't need to act at all – but he wasn't willing to take any chances.

* * *

Gloria looked over shoulder, feeling like a paranoid child about to be caught in an act of great wrong. Satisfied that there were no footsteps outside the locked door, Gloria pulled open the drawer of Thomas's desk. She had reasoned with herself that Thomas had never told her she couldn't look in his desk, and that she had gotten into it many times years ago – but she knew that she was lying to herself. Thomas would be furious if he found her going through his things.

"If you had just told me what was going on," she muttered, going through the stacks of papers carefully, looking for ones from Delmun, "I wouldn't be going through your letters like a thief."

She held up one from the Grendathian king and skimmed it, but it was all royal business: not a word of Cameron. She kept searching.

"I'm not a fragile woman, Tom, and I never have been."

She skimmed another one, but it was also Cameron-free.

"You used to trust me with everything, but now…"

Her diatribe trailed off when she saw Cameron and Nre's name in a letter, not from Delmun, but from a man who signed his letter his letter simply, "Karl." The letter was bafflingly short, and it didn't make sense.

_Cameron and Nre are both included. Don't ask anything else. Do what I told you._

_-Karl_

She searched through the desk, looking for another paper in the same shaking script, but there was no other clue as to who this Karl was, or what he had told Thomas to do. It looked almost like blackmail, which made Gloria's blood run cold. Blackmail would explain why he wasn't telling her anything, but what had Karl told him to do? Make sure Nre and Carvin were engaged? What gain could anyone possibly have in that? The only people to benefit from that marriage were Carvin's family, and there was no Karl in the Tiroe line. She even knew all of Jared's extended family, as they were all nobles, and none of them were named Karl.

She jumped when she heard footsteps outside the door and slid the letter back into the stack quickly, closing the drawer noiselessly behind it. By the time Thomas had opened the door, she was standing at the entrance to her closet, contemplating what dress to wear to dinner. Thomas didn't say anything, and neither did Gloria. She grabbed a random dress and rang for a maid, her mind lost in the mystery she had found herself in. A quick glance at her husband while the woman helped her into her dress revealed him looking tense as usual.

For the first time in a long time, Gloria wondered if he was trying to keep her safe, not trying to keep her out. If he wanted to be held as much as she did. If maybe he missed her, but too much time had passed, and the one time he might have come to her, he couldn't.

As soon as the woman finished, Gloria stood up and walked over to him. She held out a hand, intending to put it on his arm, and opened her mouth.

"Let's go to dinner," he said, forestalling whatever she had been about to say.

Gloria slowly closed her mouth, let out a breath, and nodded. All her energy had been drained by those four cold words. All her what-ifs, a temporary hope, had left her alone with her reality once more – her husband was cold and distant, and she was alone. He had been like this for years; she couldn't naïvely blame it on a recent development.

She bit her lip but kept her chin up as she walked to dinner next to a man she didn't know.

* * *

Over the next week, Nre prepared for Carvin's extended visit. On a personal level, she felt quite prepared, and was thus surprised when she was informed that preparation was needed.

"What do _I _need to do?" she asked, a bit perplexed. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed her hair over her shoulder as she addressed Lois. "We've already recited our little speech – now he's just visiting, isn't he?"

"Not quite," Lois said, looking up from the schedule with a forgiving smile. "Don't you remember Prince Alphonse's preparation for Princess Marlita's visits?"

Nre couldn't honestly say that she did. Alphonse had gotten married when she was ten, so she didn't recall much of the courting process. Lois correctly deduced her blank look and stepped forward from where she had been standing in the doorway to make herself more comfortable on the end of Nre's bed.

"You have several more etiquette classes that Lady Talin is chomping at the bit to teach you—"

"About what?" Nre cried indignantly.

"About 'proper behavior between members of an engaged couple,'" she quoted, reading the title of Nre's next lesson from the schedule she was still holding.

Nre blushed a little, which Lois noted; the woman tucked away a smile before it showed.

"Is that really necessary?" Nre asked, but it was a pointless question.

Lois gave her a look, and Nre sighed.

"Is that all?"

"You also have ten—no, fifteen?" Lois moved her fingers along the schedule and counted. "Yes, fifteen new dresses that need to be fitted. After all, Lord Tiroe can't see you in the same dress twice, and your wardrobe needs to be up to date on the latest styles."

"Carvin won't care about my dresses," Nre sighed, but she knew there was nothing to be done about that either.

"But everyone else does," Lois reminded her, smiling in spite of herself at the girl's annoyance. "And you can't forget about the border control conference in a fortnight. All the foreign guests have to see you at your best."

"Oh, of course," Nre said, and Lois couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or earnest. Nre didn't look like she was paying very much attention all of a sudden.

"Your head is wandering; we'll talk about your schedule tomorrow," Lois said, patting Nre's leg and standing up. "Good night, dear."

"Good night, Lois," Nre murmured, slipping under the covers with a smile.

Lois flipped out the light on the last peaceful night Nre would have for a long while. The whole next week was jam-packed with studying, etiquette, and dress fittings – as promised. Nre personally hoped she wouldn't have to wear most of those dresses around Carvin, or especially Cameron. Although, she might have been slightly biased against Mollnian style after a grueling five-hour fitting, which actually ended with blood.

(The exhausted seamstress had accidentally stabbed the fidgety princess with a needle, and the dress had to be taken away before it was ruined.)

Nevertheless, she was grateful when Dress Fifteen had been added to her closet – and not a moment too soon. Carvin was to arrive the next day, and Nre was more excited than she wanted to admit to herself.

* * *

Carvin knew that long travels were boring. Faidn, apparently, did not. The first few hours were full of non-stop chatter about the countryside they were passing, comments on the quality of the horses in the fields (mostly mangy "because of the long winter," Faidn had informed him), and questions about the castle. This didn't really bother Carvin, because it wasn't too different from his friend's normal personality. He simply nodded or answered as appropriate and let his mind wander to other things – like the Princess, whom he was very eager to see.

Meeting her for one day and then leaving for a week had only piqued his interest further in the princess. He'd been expecting someone stuck-up and spoiled, but he'd found someone surprisingly refreshing in Nre. She was talkative and smart, and she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. Carvin had had enough dealings with ladies of noble standing to know that that trait was a rare one in the upper classes. She was also sharp-tongued from time to time, making sarcastic remarks or teasing him playfully.

He smiled at the memory of the remark she made after he tripped on the path; he didn't remember what she said, but they'd both laughed.

Carvin realized that Faidn had been silent for quite some time now, and he looked over to find his friend staring at him with a slightly disgruntled expression on his face.

"You were thinking about her, weren't you?" he accused.

"No. Yes. Why?" Carvin asked defensively.

"I knew this would happen one day!" Faidn flopped dramatically backward onto the spacious carriage's padded bench.

"Knew what would happen, Fai?" Carvin said, shoving Faidn's feet off the bench and causing the boy to lose his balance and tumble to the floor with a cry.

"I'm going to be replaced by a _girl._" Faidn said, popping off the floor and sitting next to Carvin again, then punching him in the shoulder for good measure.

"Don't be stupid," Carvin said, making a disgusted face and refraining from rubbing his shoulder; that punch had hurt. "And don't act like we're twelve. She doesn't have cooties, for pete's sake. I think she's alright."

"Alright. For a princess. I'm still banking on closet pyromaniac."

The conversation did not improve from there. Faidn soon ran out of things to say about Nre without having actually met her, so he turned to asking how much longer the trip would be. Carvin had to remind him seven times that it was a two-day journey, and by the seventh time, the boy was so stir-crazy that Carvin thought he was going to jump out of the carriage. The footman kept looking back to ensure they were alright.

Needless to say, everyone was more than grateful to pull in at the inn late that night and let the wild animal free. While the driver talked to the innkeeper and the footman took their bags up to the room, Faidn ran three laps around the inn, then got distracted and mingled with the horses in the stable until Carvin found him and dragged him up to the room to sleep.

Carvin reflected that maybe bringing Faidn to the castle hadn't been his best idea.

* * *

FaylinnNorse**: Yeah, and it's in November again, too, on the 13****th****. And Gloria and Thomas make me so sad. I just want them to be happy, but… -sadface-**

lilo**: Haha, thanks!**

EVA**: Aw, that is a sweet moment to recall. -smile- I love happy old couples. Haha, Thomas really should remember his glory days as a frog; they'd keep him humble. -grin- Oh, Eva. -laugh- I'm glad you like Cameron, though, in all seriousness. I'm having a lot of fun with him.**

Dancingheart4ever**: I'm glad you're liking Gloria. After writing her and Thomas' story, I just couldn't let her be flat. And she's such a lovely lady. I do agree with you about siblings, too – the brother-sister dynamic is so much fun! I'll take your opinions on Nre into consideration as well – thank you for being honest. -smile- Thank you!**

Mazzie**: Ahaha, Mazzie. "I really don't have much to say except that you're AWESOME." That cracked me up. I am sad about Gloria and Thomas, as well. And yes, I'm trying to make Nre be a bit more than a cut-out character this time around. Eh-heh. O.o Thanks for reviewing!**

**Reviewers get a bowl of delicious potato-leek soup. Except **Lobuck**; she has to make her own.**


	9. In Which Faidn Sees His First Palace

**4 . 11 . 10**

**Once upon a time, there was something called NaNoWriMo. Billi participated in it. She wrote a lot about Nre and Cameron and Carvin. Then, she forgot to post chapters.**

**So sorry. I'll try to remember to update at least once a week. But I'm also trying not to post rubbish - so I need to make sure I'm looking everything over before I update. However! I've been catching a lot of typos in my work (something I am ashamed of) so please do let me know if you spot anything.**

**Thanks loads, guys. Anyone who is reading this right now has my sincere thanks for even following my silly scribbling this far.**

* * *

"How do you do it, Vin?" Faidn asked, a wild look in his eye. "You just sit there and … stare out the window."

"Yeah, Fai," Carvin said slowly. "That's all there is to do."

Faidn didn't think this a very appropriate answer, and so began to devise other things to occupy his time, such as sticking his head out the window and seeing how many horses he could get to look up at him as they passed. Carvin forcibly pulled him in a few times, then gave up and just tuned out his friend's shouts. After a long pause, however, Carvin looked over and realized that his friend was nowhere to be found. A panicked search located Faidn sitting calmly on the roof of the carriage, waving at a group of farmers they were passing.

Carvin wondered what he was thinking when he invited Faidn to come with him.

Thankfully, after a waspish discussion on the matter, Faidn fell into a sulky sleep, and Carvin had some peace. He went back to looking out the window with a sigh of relief, watching the scenery slowly change from hilly to smooth, from sunny to cloudy. An early spring rain was looking to fall on western Berensia. Carvin rested his head against the frame of the window and let his mind wander, unharrassed by Faidn's antics at last.

He was both apprehensive and excited to spend an almost uninterrupted month with Nre. He wasn't exactly sure what she thought of him, which was a bit nerve-wracking, but he knew that he liked her quite a lot, even beyond her qualities as an interesting person. Something about the sparkle in her eyes and the tone of her laugh made him feel like he could smile forever.

Carvin shook his head. He barely knew her. It was a bit presumptuous to be thinking things like that. Yet he was still thinking of them when the carriage pulled up to the castle's gate in the softly pouring rain a few hours later. There was no cheery call from the ramparts this time; the gate merely swung open to admit their carriage.

"Hey, we're here," Carvin said, nudging Faidn who was still very much asleep, his mouth hanging open and his head lolling with the rhythm of the rocking carriage. Apparently he had not slept well at the inn.

The boy jerked awake immediately and peered out the window, examining the castle.

"You could've woken me up before we actually arrived," Faidn said, a little crossly, as the carriage slowed to a halt in front of the castle's doors.

Carvin ignored his friend's grumpy remark and started in on some last minute instructions as the doorman prepared to open the door and escort them inside.

"Look, Fai, you've got to be polite. Remember, you're my attendant for this month. Let me do the talking and—"

"And don't do anything stupid, and don't track mud everywhere, and don't talk back, blah blah, you're not my mother," Faidn said rudely. "Now let me out of this carriage before I do something really rude in front of that important-looking person over there."

Carvin nearly broke his neck turning to see who Faidn was referring to. It took him a moment to realize he was talking about the well-dressed servant who was waiting to open the main door for them.

"That's a servant, Fai," Carvin sighed.

"Blimey," Faidn remarked.

Carvin thought again that bringing Faidn had not been the best idea, but he settled for entreating Faidn's silence one last time before letting the doorman escort them to the front door under his spacious umbrella. The servant opened the front door for them then, and the two walked into the castle, straight into the presence of the queen.

"Welcome," Gloria greeted them as they walked in. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"Quite," Faidn said ungraciously, before Carvin elbowed him subtly.

"I told you not to talk," he muttered with exasperation.

Gloria heard that and smiled.

"And who is this strapping young fellow, Lord Tiroe?" she asked.

Carvin opened his mouth, but Faidn was quicker.

"Faidn O'Neill, your majesty," he said, sweeping a passable bow. "And judging by the crown, I'll assume you're Queen Gloria."

Carvin put his head in his hands.

"Yes, I am Queen Gloria," the woman said, obviously amused.

"I'm—uh, Lord Tiroe's manservant," Faidn said, looking at Carvin as if just remembering that he wasn't the guest here.

"Oh, that explains it," Gloria said with a smile, though what it explained exactly was a mystery, as Nre rounded the bend at a run just then, mind-sentence.

"—heard Carvin was almost here, but then _Lois_ wanted me to get _changed_ into one of those blasted new Mollnian monstrosities, so—"

She broke off and skidded to a halt when she saw Carvin and Faidn standing in the doorway. Her face was a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. The former, Carvin deduced as he quickly looked away, probably had something to do with the fact that almost the entirety of her skirt was gathered in one arm, whose hand was gripping a pair of shoes; her feet and legs to the knee were bare.

"Nre!" her mother scolded, looking perhaps not as scandalized as she should have been.

Nre hurriedly dropped her skirt and shoes with a clatter and blushed tremendously.

"My apologies, Lord Tiroe," she said, out of breath, "for my disarray."

"I quite understand," Carvin said graciously. Though he could feel his cheeks reddening as well, he was unable to completely quell his amusement. "Shall we wait for you elsewhere?"

"Oh, no, it's—it's alright," Nre said, tripping over her words as she smoothed her hair and slipped her feet into her shoes. It sounded like she was trying admirably to move past the social blunder. "I'm quite put-together now. Mama?"

"You look fine, dear," Gloria said, kissing her daughter on the cheek and tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Lunch will be in a few hours. Why don't you show Lord Tiroe to his room?"

"Yes, alright, I will," Nre said, still sounding a bit flustered. "Follow me, Lord Tiroe, and—uh."

She seemed to only just then realize that there was another man with Carvin that she had not been introduced to. Carvin swiftly introduced Faidn before his friend took the task upon himself once again.

"This is Faidn O'Neill, my manservant for the trip."

"And the one who keeps him out of trouble on a daily basis," Faidn added.

Carvin didn't even know how to respond to such a blatant untruth, so he ignored it.

"Nice to meet you, Princess," Faidn said pleasantly.

"Charmed," Nre responded with a bit of a hesitant grin as she started to walk down the hallway. They followed. "So, where is your normal manservant, then?" she asked.

"I don't have one at Greyson," Carvin replied.

"You don't have one?" she echoed, clearly perplexed; her eyebrows met in a thin line of confusion over her startlingly blue eyes. "Why ever not?"

"My father says they are unnecessary," Carvin said with a shrug. "Honestly, I can't say I've ever wanted one. It's probably a bit different with me, though — I don't have any bulky dresses, and I don't have a plethora of social engagements to keep track of, like you do."

"I suppose," Nre said slowly, but it sounded like she was still trying to reason the matter out in her head.

"Well, what on earth do you use your — maid-lady for, anyway?" Faidn asked. "There can't be that many things you can't do for yourself."

"She helps me decide what to wear, helps me dress and undress, manages my calendar," Nre began listing, ticking each responsibility on her fingers, "arranges my lessons, orders my clothing, arranges my chamber, and… I think that's almost it. I'm sure I'm forgetting something. Lois is a very busy woman."

Faidn didn't look very convinced of Lois' necessity, but before he could say anything, Carvin responded.

"It sounds like she's quite busy."

"But, I suppose you might be right," Nre allowed. "Many of those tasks aren't things you deal with, are they? Except, I suppose, your lessons."

"I went to the town school, actually," Carvin said as they approached the marble staircase at the end of the hall.

Nre stopped walking and turned to face him, her foot resting on the first step and a look of surprise on her face.

"You went to school?"

"Faidn and I attended together," Carvin said, slightly bemused by her reaction.

It didn't occur to him that Nre's surprise could be completely justified. His father had, in fact, raised him in a very different way than most nobles in Berensia raised their children. Nre was familiar with the way nobles generally raised their families, having heard many similar stories from her various noble acquaintances, but she had never heard of anything like Carvin's story. No manservant and no tutors? That was unheard of.

"Do you like it?" she asked, recovering enough to begin ascending the stairs.

"Not overly," Carvin said honestly. "I finished last year, and I'm glad to be rid of it."

"What is this supposed to be?" Faidn asked, his voice echoing in the stairwell from the bottom, where he had apparently stopped moving in order to better identify the shape on the newell post. As Carvin and Nre turned around guiltily — they hadn't realized he'd fallen behind — Faidn turned his head completely sideways and almost fell over.

"It's an iris," Nre said.

"Let me guess — that was one of the queens' idea, wasn't it?" Carvin asked, grinning at Nre.

"It was," she admitted with a chuckle. "I did try to tell you how much we love irises."

"It runs in the royal family on the women's side, so she says," Carvin informed Faidn as the boy walked up to join them, looking put out that the worn shape wasn't something more dangerous than a pretty flower.

"It does," Nre insisted. "All this rain doesn't bode well for the iris field, actually, which is worrying my mother and I."

"Has it been raining here for a while?" Carvin asked.

"Days," Nre said morosely. "There's been absolutely nothing to do. "I was so relieved that you were coming, but I'm sorry the palace couldn't be prettier for you."

"I saw it once in the sunshine," Carvin said by way of graciousness.

"I've just been reading, when I wasn't in lessons," Nre said. "Or puddle-jumping with the servant children, now that it's warm enough to do that without the little ones getting sick. It's so nice to have them out-of-doors after being cramped inside all winter."

"You like playing with children, then?" Carvin said; pleasant images played through his head, of Nre running amok with servant children, muddying the hem of her dress or bundling the whole thing at her knees like she'd done earlier.

"They're perfectly precious," Nre answered, smiling at him over her shoulder as she remembered her little friends. "Little Beth gets far too excited about puddles, splashing mud all over everyone in a ten foot radius." She chuckled.

Faidn gave Carvin a look of tried patience. Carvin shot him a glare.

"What do you do when it rains?" she asked Carvin.

"Ride horses through the woods!" Faidn said enthusiastically.

"Sometimes," Carvin quickly amended, then smoothly changed the subject to something Faidn wouldn't feel the need to interject about. "and sometimes, I read. Have you been reading your Fidoglio books, too?"

He glanced at the pictures on the wall as they mounted the top of the stairs and began walking down another corridor. Peaceful oil paintings of the Berensian countryside lined the walls, exuding a sense of complacency.

"Of course," Nre said. "Rereading, but I don't mind. I can't get enough of them."

Faidn couldn't restrain himself any longer, no matter the dire, albeit unspoken, threats coming from Carvin's direction.

"Do you like to ride horses, Princess?"

"No," Nre said, wrinkling her nose slightly. "I don't seem to be able to get along with them, really."

It was Faidn's turn to glare at Carvin. His eyes clearly said, _Why wasn't this mentioned in our conversation about her? Clearly, her priorities are out of order._ Carvin ignored the look, and they arrived at the room.

"Here you are," Nre said, turning the knob and ushering them in.

The room was decorated in hunter green with walls painted a warm tan color. The curtains were pulled away from the window to reveal the dreary southern side of the palace overlooking the gardens. Two soft chairs faced the briskly crackling fireplace, promising a warm place to sit. Lanterns in sconces on the wall and sitting on strategically placed pieces of furniture lit the room admirably, combating the otherwise dark color scheme. A cherrywood dresser stood next to the couch by the window, and the lantern perched atop the dresser shed light on the couch despite the relative darkness of the outside. The chamber was very comfortable and spacious — bigger, even, than Carvin's room at Greyson. Faidn looked a little shocked; it was almost as big as his kitchen, sitting room, and bedroom combined.

"I trust the room is suitable?" Nre said politely.

"Very much, thank you," Carvin said, smiling at her.

It was such a warm expression, Nre couldn't help responding in turn.

"Your manservant can stay here or with the other servants," Nre offered.

"Um?" Faidn said, turning around indignantly.

"He'll stay here," Carvin said quickly. "Thank you."

"O—kay," Nre said, giving Faidn an odd look in response to the outburst, but saying nothing more on the subject. "I suppose I'll leave you to get settled, then."

She moved out of the way as the servants came through the door with Carvin's belongings.

"I'll see you at tea in the Ivory Room at 3 o'clock."

"I'm looking forward to it," Carvin said. "But where—"

"Ask any servant, and they'll direct you," she replied before he finished his question.

Nre curtsied. Faidn and Carvin bowed in response, and she then left the room, closing the door behind her. After her footsteps faded down the corridor, the boys turned to each other, each with a look of wounded trust and righteous indignation.

"Why didn't you tell me she loved _books _and _children _and didn't like _horses?_" Faidn said incredulously, unable to fathom how his friend could have left out those pieces of information in anything less than a diabolical scheme; surely it could not have just slipped his mind.

"I told you a hundred times not to talk, Faidn!" Carvin exploded, completely ignoring the previous statement; in truth, he hadn't known those things about Nre until Faidn himself had, but he didn't think it was as big of a deal as Faidn seemed to think it was. "How hard is it to keep your mouth shut?"

"Well, I'm sorry if I was just being myself!" Faidn shot back. "At least I was being honest here! Books, Carvin? Really!"

"What's the big deal? So what, she doesn't like riding, and she likes to read? That's not the end of the world. She's not going to be exactly like us, is she?" His voice softened a little, though it sounded strained still. "It would be scary if she was just like us. I'm not sure we'd even get along."

Faidn wasn't convinced.

"I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, Carvin, but she's nothing like us at all. And she's uppity, to boot."

"She's a Princess, Fai," Carvin said flatly. He rubbed his forehead. "She grew up differently than you did."

"You're a noble," Faidn pointed out. "You're not nearly as full of yourself as she is."

"She's not full of herself," Carvin defended. "She's at the top of the social order — she has a right to maidservants and personal tutors. Hang it, I have a right to them, too, actually. Dad just doesn't think we need them. He says he'd rather invest the money in something that's going somewhere, like the new town hall."

"And that makes sense," Faidn said, his voice still carrying some disgust. "Having all these luxuries doesn't make any sense at all. I mean, look at this!"

He grabbed the back of the chair, tilting it so that the gold gilding in the crevices of the designs in the arms and legs caught the firelight.

"Who needs a gold-trimmed chair?" he protested. "Some people would kill for the amount of money this costs, I'd wager."

"I know," Carvin sighed. "But not everyone thinks that way."

"Well, maybe they should," Faidn said, dropping the chair back onto its four feet so that it clattered.

"Welcome to the world, Fai," Carvin said with mock cheerfulness. "Come on — let's get our stuff unpacked. And Fai?"

"Hmm," Faidn said noncommitally, opening a suitcase at random.

"Don't be too hard on Nre. She's really a sweet and fun girl. I like her."

Faidn looked up at him, studied the seriousness on Carvin's face, then sighed.

"Fine. But only for you, Vin."

* * *

Gloria had pored over all the books, genealogies, and papers she could find in search of anyone named Karl, but her search had proved discouragingly fruitless. She even kept an eye on Thomas's incoming letters whenever possible, but none of them looked at all suspicious. Most were regarding the upcoming border control meeting, verifying the number in their party to ensure the castle was prepared for their arrival the following week.

She happened to see King Delmun's letter and was pleasantly surprised to read that Cameron would be attending, despite the last correspondence she had overheard on that topic. She grinned as she realized that Cameron's dogged insistence might have had some sway on that decision. That boy never let anything go once he decided to pursue it – a quality that reminded her strongly of Thomas.

A few days later, Gloria overheard the end of a conversation as she walked into their bedroom cheerfully after a nice afternoon spent in the kitchens.

"Tell Delmun that Cameron should not come," Thomas was saying to his attendant, who was writing a letter to King Delmun. "Make it polite, but firm. I must insist."

Gloria seized her chance immediately.

"Why?" Gloria asked, sounding innocently curious and pausing behind him as he stood next to his desk, watching his attendant pen the request.

She was feeling happy and bold; the weather was wet, as it had been for the past week, but joking with the kitchen staff had put her in a wonderful mood. She might not have brave enough to ask otherwise, but she was also determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Thomas didn't reply at first, so she persisted, maintaining a light tone of voice.

"He's the crown prince, dear. It makes sense for him to come."

Thomas turned around and faced her. Maybe it was the light, or her buoyant mood, but Gloria was rendered breathless for a moment; she realized as she stood so closely to him in the pale light of a cloudy day that he was still remarkably handsome. He was aging much better than she was, in fact, with only a few regal silver hairs to betray that he was any older than his thirties. His icy blue eyes stung her gaze for a moment, then flicked away as he replied.

"I believe he has feelings for Nre, and as Carvin will also be visiting at the time, I don't wish for him to interfere with their relationship."

"Is that all?" she probed.

He looked at her again, and his eyes narrowed. She could feel his guard going up even further, so she took his hands, a surge of desperation compelling her to act.

"Thomas, don't shut me out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know something isn't right about this situation. You can tell me. I can help."

"There's nothing to be concerned about," he said, his voice matching his eyes.

He pulled his hands free, then walked out the door, instructing his attendant to mail the letter. Gloria let out the breath of air she had been holding in a sigh and watched the door close.

* * *

Cameron leaned out of the carriage window impatiently, squinting in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the Berensian palace. His father cleared his throat. Cameron pretended not to hear, but soon pulled his head in with a sigh when only grey skies met his searching gaze. They were still too far away, to even spy the tips of the ramparts. Blissfully ignorant of the youth's frustration, the carriage continued to roll on, over the ever-flattening foothills of the Narcin Mountains that the royal pair had traveled through yesterday as they left Grendath.

"Please don't make me regret bringing you along, Cameron," King Delmun said with a tone of slight aggravation. "I am not fully pleased that you are coming, myself, and King Thomas seems to believe you will have a negative influence on his plans for his daughter."

"Father," Cameron said, giving the man a longsuffering look. "I am not a boy. I'm the crown prince, and you even admitted that it makes sense that I attend this meeting."

"Promise me you'll stay away from the princess, Cameron," Delmun said, not missing Cameron's avoidance of the topic.

"I most certainly won't stay away from her!" Cameron said, sounding and looking miffed, though he thought to himself that the king did in fact have reason to worry — _ha!_ "She's my friend, father. Just because she is engaged doesn't mean we can't interact any more. That's absurd."

Delmun narrowed his eyes at his son. He knew the boy was concocting something, and he scolded himself for giving in to Cameron's pleas to come; he was just going to cause more of a headache now.

Cameron went back to looking out the window, focusing his eyes on the horizon for the haziest glance of the palace. They should be arriving soon, but the rainy weather had caused a misty fog to settle over the roads, and it was hard to see.

He reviewed his plan as his eyes combed the landscape. It was quite simple, really; he merely had to convince Nre that he loved her and they would be perfectly happy together, and convince King Thomas that he would be a much more suitable husband for Nre than this Lord Tiroe he had caught wind of. He had originally thought that the first part of his plan would be easier than the second part, but he hadn't received any letters at all from Nre since her engagement.

He couldn't be sure why, as he had sent her several letters, and she had not replied. It could be that she was merely trying to respect her father's wishes, but that didn't seem entirely like Nre. It was more likely that she had been too distracted with Lord Tiroe to write him back, something that made his plan even more uncertain. He had been counting on her support, but now he wasn't so sure. Though he was still determined to win her heart, he now had to think about winning it from someone else — a competition. He usually did well at those. He grinned a little.

As for her father, well, he would just have to stand out during the meetings. He had attended these meetings for years now, so he knew how they worked. They were filled primarily with Dukes from the bordering regions of Berensia and Grendath, and both kings. He was easily the youngest person there.

In order to make sure he would be able to present himself well, Cameron had spend the last several weeks reviewing all the issues to be discussed at the meeting, poring over letters and documents and complaints, memorizing key names and laws, and preparing many statements and viewpoints that he thought would be best.

And not only did he build himself a platform, but he also outlined a secure explanation and backing for each point. He knew King Thomas was a man of precise logic, so the only way he would be able to convince him of his worthiness was to prove to the man that he was smart, a good speaker, and was willing to go the extra mile to defend his beliefs.

All things considering, he was as prepared as he ever would be. This is why he was so impatient to put his plan into action — and why he almost leapt from the carriage with joy when the noble Berensian flag split through the fog and into view at last, in the gloom of the overcast Berensian afternoon.

* * *

Lobuck**: Yes, I went there. **

Mazzie**: Ahaha. I love that you don't remember. It just goes to show how forgettable Nasap was. -laugh- But yes, hopefully you will understand Karl a little better, now, in all his awesomeness. Although he is different in Nasap than he was in Jab for several reasons, as you will see, but I won't give that away. -grin- Never ever read the original Nasap. I'm only not deleting it because of all the lovely reviews I got on it that make my heart happy. Otherwise, it would be gone without a trace. D: Thanks for the sympathies about the computer. Technology just seems to disagree with my stories. :-( Gloria and Thomas are indeed depressing. Haha, Gloria leaving Thomas little notes… I'll keep that in mind. -chuckle- Hope you enjoyed the new stuff! **

EVA**: Yes, one of the more major flaws in Nasap (besides the flat characters) was the very info-dump-y ending. I am attempting to rectify that this time around by sneaking in more hints and clues and little bits of explanation throughout the story, so that by the time that the story is wrapping up, the readers will have figured it out, and I can just sort of confirm their thoughts rather than reveal all the hidden information and show how it fits together… in the last chapter. So, yes. I'm glad it seems to be working. Oops, the locked-door bit was an oversight; ****it's now changed so that the door was merely closed, instead of locked****. Thank you for pointing that out! So sad, indeed. Those poor people. -sigh- You know, I actually do have an idea about what happened between NAPAN and Nasap to make their relationship so dysfunctional, but I'm not sure I'll put it in Nasap. This story isn't about them, after all. I might write it up and send it to those interested at some point. You're interested in Soleil, hm? Well. We'll see. Ahaha, I love Faidn and Carvin together. They are so ridiculous and funny as children, and so lovable and powerful as adults. What great friends. -grin- I hear your comment about Faidn, but I must insist that young-Faidn would definitely do something like that; it was only his terrible years press-ganged into a war in Philettin that sobered him up and gave him the desire to be a general. At this point in his life, Faidn is probably considering a career in hunting, like his father, or possibly a stable-boy or farrier, or some other job that would have him working with horses. **

aramis416**: I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Yes, the original Nasap was quite terrible. The flat characters and info-dump ending are among many flaws that make me cringe to even think about, hence why I'm rewriting it. Thank you for taking the time to read and review; I really appreciate it. -smile- Oh, also, if you wouldn't mind, I have a question. Where did you come upon my stories? I'm always curious to know how people come upon my work. I hope you continue to enjoy the rewrite!**

Faylinn**: Ahaha, you crack me up. XD I love young Carvin and Faidn too! Although to be honest, young Faidn might get on my nerves in real life. But hey, the best people are always just a little bit obnoxious, I've found. Aww, please don't be sad in real life. But Gloria and Thomas are depressing. And I suppose telling you not to be sad is hypocritical, because they make me really sad, too. Eh-heh. -chuckle- Yeah, etiquette would be fun if you didn't grow up with it, I feel like. I mean, I think it sounds kinda fun. -shrug-**

Lady Thorne**: It's because Faidn is wonderful! -laugh- And yeah, I know. Suspense! And sadness. :-(**

**Reviewers get hot apple cider!**


	10. In Which Men Are Quite Ridiculous

**20 . 11 . 10**

**Wow, NaNoWriMo is really eating my life this year. I've had this written for a bit, but I just didn't have time to format it and post it before now. I'm terribly sorry. I'll try to get the next chapter up sooner. As a consolation, this chapter is a lot longer. -smile-**

**Disclaimer: Please remember that this is a rewrite of an old story. While I'm expanding it a bit and making things a touch more realistic, there are still things that are a bit beyond belief - I'm keeping some of them to preserve the impossible feel of the original. That being said, however, I'd love your opinions on whether or not I'm doing that well.**

* * *

Further meetings between Faidn and Nre continued along the same vein as their first meeting, with the only difference being that Nre's confusion at Faidn's out of place statements turned to frustration that the boy refused to accept the system of nobility — that he was much further down the ladder of social hierarchy than even the servants in the palace. She was too easygoing to be directly insulted by his impolite statements, but she was often annoyed by the boy's lack of regard.

Faidn, in turn, thought Nre far too haughty and girlish to be much fun at all. And, to boot, she brought out the calm and boring side of Carvin more than the fun and exciting side that he had worked so hard to cultivate. He thought the system of nobility was useless; after all, she was marrying his best friend, so that made them equals on some level.

At any rate, the chronic disagreements made the times the three spent together quite a headache. Thankfully for everyone involved, Faidn quickly made friends with the stableboys and from that point on spent most of his time in the stables with them, admiring the horses and swapping stories. This left plenty of time for Carvin and Nre to enjoy each other's company, whether in the library, the sitting rooms, or the extensive gardens.

Sometimes they talked, and other times they read books silently, side by side, sprawled on her small library's floor in positions not at fitting of their noble status. One particular afternoon, Nre had even kicked off her shoes (one was behind the chair that was placed pointedly by the window in hopes that she might actually sit in it, and the other had been kicked with quite a bit of force and landed by the double doors) and was lying half on her side, propped up on her elbow, reading a novel which was resting on the floor in front of her.

Carvin was not quite facing her, also half on his side, with his book resting a few inches from hers. She had finally convinced him to pick up a Fidoglio book, and he had to admit that he was finding it hard to put down. Nre looked up from her book and scooted her elbow so she was completely on her side, glancing over at Carvin's book and reading upside down.

"Oh, I love that part," she commented, touching a line and reading it aloud. "'The woods seemed to speak to William with words like ancient songs, shattered and smoothed by time.' Very poetic."

"I hadn't gotten there yet," Carvin said, with only mild aggravation; he liked hearing her read it.

"Don't be a baby," Nre said, sticking out her tongue. "I didn't give anything away. Now, if I said—"

"Nre…" Carvin said warningly.

"—that in a few minutes," Nre continued, eyes glinting mischeivously. "William—"

"Don't say another word!"

"—was about to face the—"

"Nre!"

"—worst—mmph!"

Carvin had decided that Nre was incorrigible and there was only one way to stop her, so her statement was forestalled by a hand clamping over her mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise, and Carvin noticed for probably the hundredth time what a pretty blue they were. He shook himself mentally, and then quickly removed his hand. His cheeks felt warm.

"Carvin Tiroe!" she said as soon as his hand was gone. "What a thing to do to a lady!"

"Oh, is that what you are?" Carvin quickly returned. "I don't know much about ladies, I suppose, since I only see them a few times a year, but according to my knowledge, they generally respect people's requests — something I did not see you doing whatsoever. So, to retain my purety of knowledge, I had to save myself."

He adopted the look of a martyr. Nre shoved his shoulder, hard enough to make a playful point, but not hard enough to knock him over. Unfortunately, Carvin was expecting more of a blow, so he leaned forward to compensate. The sudden unbalance led to a panic as he tried not to fall forward onto the books, and then Nre, but it was a lost cause.

Nre began to laugh as she edged away from Carvin's figure, pulling the bits of her dress that had been caught under him, then uttering a small cry as she realized the books had probably been wrinkled.

"I'm so sorry," Carvin said, recovering and pushing himself up to a sitting position, then examining the books.

They seemed to be mostly undamaged, but his fingers and Nre's found a small crease in her book. Nre froze, her fingers curled a bit around Carvin's where they had both been smoothing the wrinkle. Carvin's heart flip flopped in his chest; her fingers were warm and soft against his.

"It's okay," Nre said faintly.

Carvin slowly moved his thumb to touch her finger, but her hand skittered away like a frightened butterfly, lighting on her hair, then her blushing cheek.

"At least it's not torn," she said, continuing her statement as if nothing had happened. "A wrinkle is nothing."

Carvin couldn't remember responding to that, but the next thing he knew, they had moved on to another topic of conversation. And, all too soon, they were called for dinner. Nre was once again reprimanded by Lois for losing her shoes, and Nre once again told Lois that it was her house, and she should be able to do what she wanted. Carvin couldn't help laughing at that, and so they both went to dinner in good humor.

* * *

All too soon, preparations for the border control conference were underway. Faidn was kicked out of the stables, because the stable boys were suddenly busy preparing for all the horses that would be bringing the nobility to the conference, which meant cleaning out the extra wings that were not used except during large events like conferences and balls. He wasn't altogether pleased to be spending more time with Nre, and Nre shared his feelings.

As the days passed and the servants became more harried, the trio couldn't even walk through a hallways without edging around carts filled with linens, cleaning supplies, dishes, and assorted furniture or decorations that were being moved from one room to another. The day before the conference started, they upset one cart and ran into a servant who was carrying a precarious armload of china, and they were firmly told by Lois to _go outside._ (Although, to be fair, most of the plates landed in a pile of sheets that were waiting to be washed.)

The three, now feeling like little children, took to the garden paths sullenly, Faidn and Nre bickering about the seriousness of the broken plate. Even Carvin, who was usually unflappable even in the most frustrating of situations, was in a foul mood.

He joined the argument at the beginning, but soon gave up, letting Faidn and Nre take shots at each other. He reflected that he should probably stop them, but the only idea that came to mind included throwing his best friend into a bush, so he decided to remain mum.

"It's just one plate, _princess,_" Faidn said, in a way that seemed quite disrespectful, despite the use of her proper title. "There are hundreds of others."

"But that was a china plate," Nre argued back, frustrated. "That was expensive."

She was so focused on the conversation that she almost ran into a gardner. Carvin took her elbow with a sigh and guided her around the man. She barely noticed.

"It's not like you're not rolling in money," Faidn jabbed.

Nre gritted her teeth.

"It's not a very _responsible_ use of money to be replacing costly dishware because of careless acts," she said.

"Is it very responsible to buy costly dishware in the first place, when less expensive plates work just as well?" Faidn retorted.

After what seemed like far too long, they were interrupted by a servant with a message.

"Princess Nre."

"_What, _Gered?" she snapped.

"The royal carriage of Grendath has just arrived."

Carvin was almost blown away by the abrupt change in Nre's demeanor. The dark, annoyed scowl that brought ice to her eyes was replaced in an instant with a wide-eyed smile and — was that a hint of a blush?

"Thank you, Gered," she said hurriedly, then looked at Carvin.

A brief, unreadable look passed over her eyes for an instant, then she slipped her arm free and gestured at him, and began to run. She hiked up her skirts to her knees and took off through the garden, Carvin and Faidn hot on her heels.

"Hurry up, slowpokes!" she taunted, laughing.

"Slow?" Faidn cried, pride wounded.

He had won every race in town almost since he could walk. He easily overtook the princess and shouted over his shoulder:

"I'm not slower than a girl in a dress! I just don't know where I'm—"

"Faidn, look—"

But Carvin's warning came too late. With a colossal crash, Faidn and a gardener plowed into a wheelbarrow full of weeds and dirt, sending the contents flying in all directions. Nre and Carvin burst into laughter, almost collapsing as Faidn sprung to his feet, apologizing profusely to the older man and helping him to his feet. He was by their side again as they rounded the bend to the front courtyard.

"I told you I didn't—"

"Showoff!" Carvin chuckled, jostling his friend. Faidn elbowed him back.

"Why don't you just watch where you're going instead of chatting up the competition?" Nre teased.

Before Faidn could reply, someone else shouted.

"Nre!"

They all looked up at the voice joining the conversation. Again, Carvin noticed a change in Nre's expression as the man loped up to them. He looked from her to the stranger, assuming that this had to be Prince Cameron, whoever _that_ was.

The man was tall, taller than both Carvin and Faidn, though not taller than Faidn by much. He was, however, much stockier than Faidn's lean, almost scrawny, build. His ferociously red hair was cut neatly and tamed, which made Carvin put a hand to his own longish hair unconsciously. It was almost in need of a trim. The Prince's hair seemed like it never grew too long. Faidn's hair was hopeless — it almost reached his shoulders. Carvin was just glad it was clean that day.

Something about this Prince made him stand a little taller — and a little closer to Nre. His subconscious was stirring up a protective instinct, and he wasn't quite sure why or where it had come from. He resisted the urge to take Nre's arm again, dismissing the feeling as inconsequencial. The brief, highbrowed look from Faidn, however, stirred up that part of him that found him suddenly _jealous_ of this red-haired prince.

"Prince Cameron, this is Lord Tiroe," Nre said, sounding a little short of breath. It was probably from running, Carvin thought.

"And this is Faidn," Carvin added hastily, before his friend could make a snappy remark. "Pleasure to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Cameron said smoothly, shaking Carvin's hand with an undeniable strength.

His eyes glanced between Carvin and Nre with a mixture of hesitance and confidence. Carvin, not liking the look, took Nre's elbow firmly, but surreptitiously. Cameron noticed, and a little of the smugness faded.

"This is who I've been telling you about, Cameron," Nre said, breaking the silence. It was only then that Carvin noticed the tenseness. "In my letters, remember?"

Cameron looked away from Carvin and at Nre, looking genuinely confused.

"What letters? I've been writing to you, but you haven't responded for several weeks. I assumed you were busy with… other things."

He spared a pointed look for Carvin, who didn't back down.

"No," Nre said, frowning. "I've been writing to you every week, and you never replied…"

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, puzzled, until Nre sighed, sounding like she'd discovered a very unfortunate but obvious answer to a longstanding problem.

"My father. This has his name all over it. He's been acting strange since—"

"I showed up?" Carvin finished.

"No, before then," Nre said, shaking her head. "Well, forever, I guess, but more weird than usual for the past several months. It would be like him to keep our letters from reaching each other because…"

The statement didn't need to be finished. The boys looked at each other again. It was evident that Cameron had heard the news of Nre's engagement, and by the look he was giving Carvin, it was evident that he didn't altogether approve.

Faidn had restrained himself from commenting up to this point, possibly out of admiration for the commanding newcomer, but he couldn't stay silent forever.

"So, who are you exactly?" he asked Cameron.

"The Crown Prince of Grendath," Cameron answered. "You can just call me Cameron. Who are _you_ exactly?"

"Well, _Cameron,_" Faidn said, looking at Nre, who was constantly fussing about titles. "I'm Lord Tiroe's best friend and current manservant."

"Pleasure to meet you," Cameron said, holding out a hand.

"Pleasure," Faidn returned politely, shaking the man's hand.

Nre rolled her eyes. Before any further comments could be made, the three were called inside for luncheon by Gered. Carvin, though now clarified as an arranged suitor rather than a chosen one, nevertheless ensured Cameron's distance by keeping a steady hand on Nre's arm. The taller man, in following conversations, could not keep his eyes from glancing to this possessive gesture and to Carvin's watchful eyes.

It was evident to everyone, including the princess herself, that Nre had found herself in the position of a much-coveted toy in the presence of two calculating children.

* * *

The next day, the conference started. Cameron found himself in a conference room, drumming his fingers on his leg and glancing at his pocketwatch: it read twenty-four minutes past three. This particular meeting had lasted almost three hours, and nothing useful had been said in at least thirty minutes. He had been very interested in the meeting while it had been productive, systematically supplying new insights and observations, much to the commendation of the Dukes.

However, once the discussion had turned to the more crotchety old Dukes complaining about the deer that crossed the border from Berensia to Grendath every spring, Cameron had been itching to escape.

He knew Carvin had taken the opportunity of the meeting to spend time with Nre, and he was eager to break up the party. He was working uphill, trying to win Nre over when he spent so much time in meetings, but it was an impossible battle he was determined to win. He knew he was making progress on her father. Though the King didn't make very many facial expressions, Cameron could see that the man was impressed by the look in his eyes when Cameron spoke.

Just being in Nre's presence gave him new energy to pursue her. Seeing her again reminded him of all the reasons he was falling for her: her laughter, her smile, her propensity to act in unladylike ways, her clever conversation—

"Cameron!"

His father's sharp whisper brought him back to the meeting.

"Look alive, boy; they're about to ask you for your opinion."

"On what?" Cameron asked, straightening instantly and cursing his inattention.

King Thomas was looking at him, no doubt noticing his daydreaming. _Blast, _he thought angrily, unwilling to let an entire morning of positive thoughts go to waste in one moment.

"Possible cross-border aid for the Berensian towns that lie on the border between us. The Berensian Relief Committee is swamped with helping those affected by the—"

"Flooding in the south, I know," Cameron said. "I remember."

"Prince Cameron, can you offer any ideas?" King Thomas asked.

Cameron, who had already wrestled with this controversial issue, did, in fact, have an idea to offer.

* * *

It wasn't until nearly four o'clock that the meeting finally adjourned and Cameron left the room with all the dignity he could muster at a quick trot. It took almost fifteen minutes to track down the princess and Carvin, asking different servants and getting vague answers from all of them. One of them finally pointed him in the direction of Nre's room, so he mounted the stairs and stopped in the open doorway, unnoticed by the pair inside.

Carvin and Nre were sitting in the middle of Nre's floor, surrounded by a deathtrap of oil paints. If Lois had seen them, she would have had a heart attack, and not just because sitting on the floor was unladylike (she'd given up on that habit of Nre's years ago). Several of the paint pots scattered around them were perilously close to tipping over and spilling their contents onto the dusky rose colored carpet.

As Carvin reclined slightly, a canvas rested his lap, propped at an angle against his knees. Nre was smearing paint on it in what she obviously intended to be a skillful manner. Both of them knew it wasn't at all skillful, and Carvin took the brush from her hand, laughing.

"You're rubbish at this, Nre."

Cameron could hear the fondness in his voice, and he chose that moment to make his presence known. He took a few steps forward and cleared his throat. The green paint wobbled dangerously with the vibrations of his footsteps.

Nre and Carvin both looked up and smiled, though Carvin did so with more reservation than Nre, whose whole face seemed to light up. Despite his previous frustration, Cameron could do nothing but grin back at her, his mood already brightening just because she was _there. _

"Hello, Cameron," she said warmly. "I was just showing Carvin my superior painting abilities."

"Oh, is _that _what you were doing?" Carvin asked, casting a pointedly critical eye on the smudged canvas.

"Shut up," Nre said playfully, then turned back to Cameron. "Anyway, it seems that my art is unappreciated, so perhaps we'd better go elsewhere and find other ways of entertaining ourselves."

She started to get up, then realized she was boxed in.

"Um, Cam, could you…?"

"My pleasure," he replied, and quickly moved the paint cups onto a nearby table, then helped Nre to her feet.

He let his hand linger in hers for longer than was strictly necessary and caught her gaze. She looked at him for a heart-stopping moment, then looked away and let her hand fall free. Cameron didn't comment. Carvin had missed the entire encounter as he helped himself to his feet and carefully leaned the canvas against the table leg.

"So," he said brightly, snapping the lids back onto the paint cups, "What's the agenda? Are those meetings over yet?"

"For the day, yes," Cameron said, but before he could say anything else, a servant came to the door. He bowed low to the three of them before speaking.

"Lord Tiroe, your presence is required in the Sage Room. I will escort you."

Carvin, whose existence in the palace was due solely to his connection with Nre, was often forgotten about by anyone and everyone of real importance. Occasionally, the servants even forgot to set him a place at dinner. He was understandably surprised, then, at this sudden, vague summons. However, true to character, he shrugged amiably and followed the man, waving at Nre and Cameron as he left. He might have looked a little irked that he was being called away, but the expression was barely visible.

Nre didn't notice the twinkle in Cameron's eye as she wondered aloud:

"Huh, he's never been called away before. I wonder why they need him."

"Who knows," Cameron said, a bit too smugly.

Nre slowly turned to look at him, eyes narrowed and mind churning.

"What—"

Then, she had an idea. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth in a disbelieving grin.

"Cameron Micah, you did not send him on a goose chase!" Cameron didn't answer, but his face confirmed it. She crossed her arms. "That was petty, and rude."

"Can you blame me for wanting a few moments with you? One of my closest friends?" Cameron asked.

"We've spent almost every minute together since you got here, the three of us."

"That's not exactly what I mean," Cameron said. "Do you remember all the years past? We spent every day talking and laughing together, just us?"

"Yes, but," she said, then paused. She looked torn. "But now, I'm… engaged to Carvin. It's not proper."

"But that wasn't your choice," Cameron said vehemently. It wasn't an argument, but a statement.

"I know," she said, looking down. "If it was, I would—" She cut herself off.

Cameron looked at her hard, like he was trying to push past the surface and into her mind. She stared directly back.

"Before the conference, my father told me I had to choose a wife," Cameron began.

Nre was startled; he hadn't mentioned anything about that. Although, she didn't suppose he would, really, with Carvin around. _But still…_

"I thought and thought and thought, and do you know what I realized?" Cameron continued.

"What?" Nre asked, barely paying attention.

Her heart was aching in a most frightening manner at the thought of Cameron marrying someone else. Funny how it hurt more when it wasn't her own life anymore.

She blinked and realized suddenly that he was a lot closer to her. His hand hovered around hers like he wanted to grab it, but was restraining himself.

"I realized," he said, very quietly and very close, "that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone … but you."

Nre caught her breath before it was knocked out of her, tasting on it Cameron's spicy-sweet smell that she barely knew except in the recesses of her dreams. Cameron continued, words tumbling softly over each other as he finally put to words everything that he had felt for years.

"You're beautiful, you're funny, you're smart, and you're—my perfect balance."

He took her hand, unable to hold back any longer.

"You make me smile when I'm angry, you make me look on the bright side when I'm sad, and you calm me down when I'm frustrated."

His thumb toyed along her knuckles lightly.

"I—love you, Nre," he whispered.

Nre felt frozen, speechless, though an inexplicable warmth was bubbling from somewhere deep inside of her. Hearing Cameron's voice in her ears, saying everything she felt, was surreal. Tingles ran from her fingers, wrapped securely in Cameron's, up her arms.

"Cam," she finally managed, and she knew it sounded pained. "I—I—I've loved you for years. I—"

She stopped. She took a shaky breath and looked up at Cameron, then she found she simply couldn't say anything more. A soft smile curved his lips; he took a hand and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, then framed her face with his hand.

"Marry me," he said quietly.

"I can't," she said sharply, pulled from the dizzying atmosphere in an instant as she was reminded of _Carvin. _Her voice softened, and she dropped her voice again."Cameron, you know I can't."

"I'll convince your father," Cameron said, curling his fingers on her cheek before removing them.

"It doesn't work like that," Nre murmured. "Carvin and I are already engaged. If we break it off, it will look terrible."

"People will forget," Cameron said. "Look, if you don't want to, just say so. Don't banter around like this."

"Of course I want to, I just—"

Cameron leaned forward and kissed her cheek, making her forget whatever she was going to say.

"Then stop worrying about it," he whispered. "I'll figure it out."

She really didn't have much of a choice than to believe him.

* * *

"Well done. Cameron _is _attending the meeting, so I am told."

"Don't assume I had anything to do with that," the dark figure replied in disgust. "The stupid kid wouldn't know a hint if it introduced itself to him."

"And the princess — what are her thoughts on Cameron?" the man asked, unperturbed.

He watched with satisfaction as the fiari struggled visibly, trying not to answer the question but unable to work against the binding magic. He was getting the hang of how to manipulate his control over the stubborn creature. It had to answer truthfully when he asked it a direct and specific question.

"She is—friendly with Carvin, but still very attached to Cameron," he finally said, grinding out every word resentfully.

"Excellent," the man said smugly. "All seems to be proceeding quite well. Not much longer now, I'd think. You may go."

The fiari gave him a smoldering look, then vanished.

* * *

**So, opinions? This deviates from the original plot, so I'm interested to know what the second-time readers think. If you even remember. -chuckle- How's the style? Plot movement? I'm eager to know what you all think.**

Lady Thorne**: Because he's awesome? Ha. I love Faidn as well. Yeah, bad guys! -dramatic music- And, I hope Gloria and Thomas will be friends again, too. That seems silly for me to say, since I'm writing it, but it's true. -laugh-**

aramis416**: -laugh!- I was the gateway drug to Fairy Tales? I'm not sure if I should be proud or apologetic. LOL. I'm glad you're still enjoying it! And I'm _very _glad that you decided to read this after reading the deplorable original! Ugghhh.**

**Reviewers get a coffee chocolate! (Half coffee, half hot chocolate) And for those non coffee-lovers, I guess I'll give you a mug of peppermint hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream.**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Eva**, for pointing out my typo!**


	11. In Which Something Dreadful Happens

**4 . 12 . 10**

**Hey guys! I finished NaNo, but I did not finish the story. I got pretty far, though, and I'll probably be posting a lot more over the holidays as I have time to look it all over and fix it up before subjecting you all to it. I know there aren't many people that read this anymore (with just one review on each of the past two chapters, I think I've figured that out), so if you're reading this, I thank you. Your reviews make my day every time.**

* * *

Cameron put his back against the wall and pressed his palms to the stone, crumpling the crisp stationery and looping handwriting as he did so. He could feel his heartbeat in his fingers a moment after it pounded in his chest. The crazy, dissonant rhythm added to the frustration and confusion in his mind. The letter, delivered by the King's manservant himself, had been given him just ten minutes past, and it only took a cursory read to know exactly what the king was saying. Moments after his eyes read the last word, he felt the great need to leave the room and go—somewhere. His father had questioned him, but the prince hadn't even bothered to reply. His teeth were gritted and his fight instinct was threatening to rear its head.

He dropped the paper, letting it tumble to the ground, half balled up from his grip. The words were still mostly visible in the torchlight.

_To the Crown Prince of Grendath, Cameron Braxton:_

_It should be no secret to you that I did not wish for you to accompany your father here to the Border Control Conference. Since your arrival, my reasons for this have proven themselves true. Cameron, you may have been close to my daughter in years past, but I must politely and firmly request that you engage your time elsewhere while you are here._

_Signed,_

_King Thomas of Berensia._

It was obvious that he wasn't any closer to convincing her father to change his mind, despite the impression he thought he had been making on the king in the meetings. Yet… he felt like there was a strange and foreign piece of him that had been slowly awakening since he began to think of considering Nre as a wife, and he had not stopped it soon enough; it was now thundering upon his senses like a ravenous beast. She drew him in. Every glance captivated him. Every word rang in his ears like a sweet memory. Every touch sent a thrill up his spine. Her personality captured him — it fit so well into his.

He wanted to love her; he wanted to sweep her off her feet. He wanted her to be happy; he wanted her to be his. He wanted to protect her from every hurt and save her from every storm. He loved her.

But he _couldn't _love her.

He had never considered that possibility: the possibility that he would not be able to convince the king, that he would not succeed. And now that possibility, that reality, was warring against his resolve. The passion and conflict was so strong in him that he trembled, frozen in tandem between two impetuous decisions and trying to make neither and both, simultaneously. He waited for one to outweigh the other, caught in a struggle of wills inside his own soul and unable to move until something happened. He stood poised in the half darkened hallway like a creature of the night, but no answer came to him — and then there were footsteps.

* * *

Nre pushed the window open and let the cool evening breeze tease her hair. It had finally stopped raining, but the air was still damp. The tiny droplets of water felt like ice on her cheeks, which were burning. Her thoughts were on Cameron, and on Carvin. Cameron's proposal earlier that day had been swirling around in her mind like a giddy tornado, threatening to loose her hold on sense. Seeing Cameron in the first place had swelled a host of emotions as suddenly as a cloudburst, drowning the hopeful blooms that Carvin's visits had fostered. She really did like Carvin, but— it wasn't the same.

Her hands gripped the windowsill and she closed her eyes. She'd gotten to know Cameron well over the years — better than most, she would think. She felt a pull toward him that she couldn't explain, one that made her burgeoning attraction for Carvin almost entirely disappear. She was drawn to Cameron irrevocably. The boy she'd just met had no ground on the one she'd been friends with for most of her childhood. She knew Cameron better, and she loved him for all that he was.

How _could _she love Carvin?

The room was stifling to her now, in spite of the open window. Lois hadn't come to undress her yet, so she slipped out the door, careful to cover her bare feet in case she ran into anyone from the conference. Lois would understand. She always knew when Nre needed some time in the iris field to sort her thoughts out. Something about the gently bobbing flowers, balanced on their smooth, slim stalks just gave Nre a sense of peace. And peace was definitely something she wanted right now.

She walked down the little-used staircase behind the guest suites, trying not to think that she might meet Cameron in a hall nearby — it was unrealistic to even consider it, as most guests had repaired to their rooms for the night. The staircase itself was half hidden; only those seeking a different route than the Grand Staircase would have occasion to find it.

Nre squinted in the partial light, taking careful steps so she wouldn't trip over her long skirts on the winding stairwell. Even in the silence, her thoughts were spinning too quickly for her to notice the shadow just past the foot of the stairs, or to hear the agitated breathing. When a familiar voice said her name in a low murmur, she had to swallow a short cry of surprise. All other thoughts vanished as she bobbed a hasty curtsy and stammered a greeting.

"G—good evening, Prince Cameron," she said, completely out of sorts.

She hadn't honestly expected to see him, so his appearance set her back several paces. Again, she glanced down to be sure her feet were covered.

"Good evening," he replied, his voice strained.

He looked into her eyes for a moment, then turned his gaze away. The flame from the lamplight glanced off his eyes like fire on a waterfall. She noticed then that his face was drawn, and his hair was tousled — as if he had been running his hand through it many times, trying to think through a problem.

"Is everything alright, Cameron?" she asked in a hushed voice.

It seemed there was something tight and heavy in the air between them, and one loud word might break it to pieces. She saw a struggle cross his face.

"No, not exactly," he finally replied, his low voice hushed to match hers; he felt the tightness too.

"Is it anything I — could help with?" she asked, taking the smallest of steps toward him.

They were only two feet apart.

"You shouldn't," he said, with only a little hesitation.

"What is it?" Nre asked, even more quietly.

She knew she was probably treading on dangerous ground, but the closeness and intimacy of the chance meeting intoxicated her. Cameron was affected too, it seemed, for he took a step closer to her as he replied.

"I love you."

Just the words made her feel warm. She locked away the knot of fear, or guilt, that throbbed beneath the warmth. She nudged just a breath closer; she could feel his heat.

"I love you," she said.

Even though there was no sense in it, Nre couldn't help herself. She longed for an answer, longed for someone to make the swirling and headaches stop, longed for _peace. _So she let out a small sigh and wrapped her arms around Cameron, burying her head in his shoulder. Cameron had not been expecting that, but he responded without even a conscious thought, letting his arms settle around her waist and drawing her closer to him. The both closed their eyes in the sweet silence, and for once, their minds stopped churning. Neither had ever felt so at home as they did in that moment, wrapped in each other's arms.

Cameron moved his head, and Nre turned to look at him — and she then realized that their faces were a scant inch apart. She felt his breath on her cheek. Once more, their eyes locked, and Nre was lost in a fiery waterfall. He moved just an inch closer, never looking from her eyes, but searching them closely, as he had done earlier. Feeling his heartbeat in her chest, though, Nre could believe much more readily that he was endeavoring to see her heart. After a moment, he crossed the final gap and tentatively let his lips touch hers.

A wave of euphoria snatched any stray thoughts of propriety, duty, or Carvin from her mind. She moved one hand to the back of his neck and laced the other through his — and kissed him back, smiling.

Suddenly, it felt like a strong rope was being wound around their hands, though nothing was there. As soon as they registered the strange happening, the pressure vanished with an audible snap and they both looked at each other, wondering if they had imagined it in the unreality of the moment.

Their hearts thudded in rhythm.

A noise from the stairs forestalled any comments they might have made; they each took a step back in surprise, though their hands remained entwined.

"The iris field," Nre said in a low voice, and started running down the stairs.

Cameron easily kept pace, stumbling after her in the dark stairwell. In a moment, they had reached the ground floor, and they were flying down the hall and out the side garden door. The smooth pebbles clacked under Nre's bare feet as they ran breathlessly to the back corner of the garden where the iris field was spread, blanketed in dusky light from the vanished sun. All the servants had long departed the garden to complete their chores inside the castle, leaving the two quite alone.

Cameron's feet automatically slowed at the edge of the field, but Nre's hand tugged him further, along a small trail worn between the purple flowers. They walked along the narrow path in silence, Nre in front, with Cameron lingering to her trailing hand. The flowers brushed their legs as they walked, like tiny adoring hands. Nre felt, as she always did among the irises, that everything in the whole world was at peace, in spite of her erratically beating heart.

When they'd gone halfway through the field,

a shadow from the bordering forest broke off from the trees and thundered toward them. Cameron only had time to register that it was a man on horseback and he was traveling with unnatural speed, before the horse was less than ten feet away and crushing the fragile blooms near them under its hooves.

Nre was gaping, aghast, at the rampant destruction the horseman was carelessly wreaking on her beloved flowers — not noticing the very real possibility that she herself would be trampled. Cameron yanked her behind him and stumbled back a few paces as the horse skidded to a stop in front of them, uprooting and hopelessly ruining another patch of delicate flowers.

"I suppose it _would_ be too much to ask for teenaged royals to be smart for a change," the rider said, his annoyed tone riddled with something far more dangerous — something that made Nre rub her hand in memory of the invisible rope.

"Who are you?" Cameron demanded, one hand on Nre's arm behind him, and the other reaching for his dagger.

The man grunted something inaudible as he swung off the horse with far more grace than even an expert jockey.

"_Tell_ me your name, peasant," Cameron snapped, starting to draw his dagger.

"Karl," the man said on a sigh, "not that that information helps _you_ at all. And put that dagger away. You two are in a lot of hot water, and I'm here to—ah—help."

He sounded like he had a bit of difficulty with the last word.

"What are you talking about?" Nre said boldly, stepping past Cameron's protective arm to stand beside him. "Talk fast. If I scream, fifty guards will be swarming the gardens in under a minute."

Karl didn't even blink at her slightly exaggerated threat, but his eyebrows were furrowed in—determination, or concentration. He spoke fast, urgently, but with an undertone that Cameron couldn't place.

"I can't tell you what I'm talking about, but _you_ have about thirty seconds before you're kidnapped, and those wishes you were promised get—"

He choked a little on something, but Cameron had no intention of letting him continue. He pulled out his dagger.

"Look," he said, eying Karl calculatingly. "I don't know who you think you are, or what in Ladyra you're talking about, but unless you get on that horse and ride away now, things are going to get nasty."

Karl let out an angry puff of air and smacked the horse's shoulder. The horse snorted and stomped dangerously close to Karl's foot.

"If you don't come with me, it'll be nasty. A lot more nasty than you think. Ten seconds."

His voice was short, strained, and it looked like he was struggling against something invisible. Cameron suddenly realized that he looked almost scared.

"Trust me," he said after a silence. "_Please._"

"You're a lunat—" Nre started to say, but then she began to gag.

It felt like a fluid rope was constricting her throat, but as she grasped for it, she found there was nothing there but her own skin.

"Come with me. _Now,_" she heard Karl say harshly.

Her vision was starting to go black, and their voices were blurring together. Head spinning and lungs screaming for air, she dropped unsteadily to her knees, clawing at her throat in desperation for a breath. Around her, she noticed that the irises were wilting and dying before her eyes. She barely heard Cameron yell something, then she felt arms around her. An impossible second later, she was slumped on something large and warm. _The irises—_ she thought dully, then passed out.

* * *

"Thomas?"

Gloria's voice reached out like the hand she wanted desperately to offer, but was too scared to even remove from her lap. Her husband hadn't moved from his desk since news of Nre and Cameron's disappearance had reached them hours ago. Gloria had given the orders to start the search parties and interrogations herself, but Thomas had been no help. He gruffly agreed with what she said, but offered no ideas of his own.

She had the feeling that he knew more than he was saying. She was almost out of her mind with fear and panic, though she kept her face impassive and voice steady when servants and soldiers came to report new information — which was not very often, and not very helpful when it came. Thomas, however, looked less panicked, and more… furious.

Not furious in the way of breaking furniture and shouting: not fury that was directed at anyone. She could tell by the look on his face that his anger was directed solely at himself. But, even knowing that, she shrunk back unconsciously after calling his name; he was not unknown for taking out his frustration on others.

However, Thomas didn't even move when she called him.

"Tom?" she tried, still more nervously.

Again, he did not respond.

She had been sitting next to him for hours, neither moving nor speaking (except to the messengers) until just a moment ago. He had not asked her to leave, and he had not moved away. That gave Gloria her courage — what little of it she could muster — to stay, and to offer comfort to him when she had very little hope that he would accept it.

It was her courage and her shriveled twist of stubborn love for Thomas that motivated her to reach out time and time again. With every attempt, she knew that she would fail, but she couldn't stop hoping she wouldn't fail _this _time. Without exception, Thomas refused her entreaties, pushing her further and further away—

Until Gloria wasn't sure she could stumble backward another step without slipping off the edge.

She screwed up her resolve, dug her toes into the cliff's edge, and tried one more time. One last time.

"Tom."

He didn't move. She could feel the bristling coldness emanating from him, pushing her away. She held her ground, barely, and opened her mouth. But Thomas spoke first.

"Don't talk, Gloria."

A shove. She felt the blow, and something inside of her finally broke: the cord that had been holding her up, keeping her from a fall…

She slipped off the edge.

Tears she had been holding all day — and for far too many years before that — finally escaped her heart and trembled down her cheeks. She stood, quavered for a moment on her feet, then walked out the door.

It took several seconds to realize someone had grabbed her hand. She looked down at the familiar fingers, then followed them up to the face she had tried to read for so long. Now its expression was unguarded — terrible pain and regret marred the handsome features. She didn't move.

"Lori—Gloria," he said. "I—"

But then he stopped. She looked at him, then slipped her hand free and walked away.

* * *

"The Prince and Princess seemed to have gone mysteriously missing, just minutes after they kissed," the man said, looking out the window and watching clouds gather over the southern sea.

"Did they?" the fiari said, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"How convenient," the man said dangerously.

"Quite," the fiari said, and said nothing else.

"Were you involved in this escape?" the man asked. A question— direct, and specific.

What he didn't know about fiari magic was the one clause, hidden and kept a secret from every human since the magic's very formation: in the most dire of circumstances, fiari were permitted to lie to their masters. Only once, and only to save their own lives.

The fiari took a deep breath. _Well, we're all going to die, so this had better count, _he thought to himself. He forced the words out with calmness.

"While I must applaud whoever took this action, I regretfully say that I was not involved."

The words were spoken. They did not catch on his throat like knives. He thanked the stars most sincerely. His heart, which he did not realize had been racing, slowed.

The man looked away from the window and stared at him closely, but in the end he decided the magic would hold, and he turned back to the sea.

"Very well. You may go."

Karl disappeared with a grateful sigh too small for the man to hear.

* * *

Carvin had not been having the best of days. _Well, the morning was alright, _he reflected. More accurately, after leaving Cameron and Nre's company and following the servant, things had gone downhill. The man led him to the Sage Room, and Carvin proceeded to wait there for nearly half and hour before he flagged down another servant and asked him if whoever it was that wanted to see him was coming. The servant looked a little perplexed, and told him to wait in the Lavender Room; the other man must have been mistaken.

That servant had left before he could ask where the Lavender Room was, so he wandered the halls until he found a servant who could direct him appropriately. After he finally located the room (the castle was far more convoluted than he had originally thought) he waited there for another half hour. Now quite irked, he managed to keep his temper with the next servant who appeared. This man looked completely bewildered.

"I do not know of anyone who was requesting your presence, Lord Tiroe," he said carefully. "Perhaps there was a miscommunication. Wait here, and I will verify your summons."

He waited another twenty minutes before the servant came back with profuse apologies.

"There was some sort of mix up in the message room," the man said. "You were not summoned, Lord Tiroe. I am quite sorry for the problem. Would you like me to order some dinner for you in your apartment?"

Carvin, realizing that he had missed dinner with Nre, had accepted his offer with as much grace as his father had taught him to use, but he was not amused with the situation. He did not delight in the fact that he had just missed Nre at dinner — the last time he usually saw her in a day.

He fumed all through dinner, which Faidn spent chattering excitedly about all the _beautiful_ horses the Dukes owned.

"Some of them are from Werinith, I swear they are," Faidn said, a little glossy eyed. "So broad and strong — ah, you just don't see them around Greyson, Carvin. Those Dukes must be from the mountain regions."

"Mhm," Carvin said, taking another bite of salad and glaring at the fork like it had personally offended him.

Faidn took notice of this unusual behavior.

"Look, I hate veggies as much as the average kid, but I doubt the salad could be that awful."

"Huh?" Carvin said, shaken from his thoughts and looking at his friend.

Faidn rolled his eyes.

"What are you all hot and bothered about?"

Carvin told him what had happened that afternoon, and Faidn listened intently.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Faidn asked when Carvin had finished the story.

"What are you talking about?" Carvin said, genuinely confused. There wasn't much to do about it _now._

"Well, this was obviously Cameron's doing," Faidn said in the condescending tone that people usually liked to exercise around him. "So, what's the plan of action? Might I suggest a classic? Jamming the doorknob into a locked position is a failsafe, and I've already checked the doors here; they're perfect."

"Faidn," Carvin said, giving him a look. "Please act like you're older than twelve."

"Fight fire with fire, my friend; he sent you on a wild goose chase, didn't he? That's another classic. Really, you should have used that one first. I must have failed you as a friend…"

"Faidn!"

Faidn crossed his arms stubbornly and looked at Carvin with his eyebrows raised. He was the very picture of a knowing adult.

"Carvin. I don't know if you have been paying any attention at all, but this prince is after your lady. I've spent as little time around you three as possible, and even I know that. Are you just going to stand back and let him sweep her off her feet, or are you going to do something about it?"

"Locking his door isn't going to do anything," Carvin pointed out. "He'll call a servant and unlock it."

"You're thinking too far into the future, Vin," Faidn said, putting a hand on his arm. "Of course it won't do anything in the long run. Neither will sending you on a crazy search for an anonymous noble. It's the _short term _you've got to think about. If you don't act fast, he'll move right in, and before you know it, she'll be out of reach."

"I thought you didn't like Nre," Carvin said after a pause.

Faidn shrugged and made a face.

"She could be worse. But you like her, and that's what matters here."

Carvin didn't say anything for a while. Faidn let him think.

"Okay," Carvin said finally.

Faidn's face broke out into a grin.

"You'll do it?"

"Why not?" Carvin said, with reservation, but he chuckled.

"All right!" Faidn cheered, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'll find the tools. You just wait right here."

He opened the door to leave and almost ran into a man who was preparing to knock.

"Oh. Um. Hello," Faidn said awkwardly, and he took a few steps back.

"My apologies for the lateness of this message, Lord Tiroe," the man said, bowing to Carvin.

He looked very grave. Carvin stood, eyebrows furrowing.

"It's fine. I was just eating. What's happened?"

"It's the Princess, and the Prince of Grendath," the man said. "They've been kidnapped; someone saw them being carried out of the garden. Also, hoof prints were found in the iris field, and the Prince's dagger has been identified at the scene, confirming it. The Queen requested that you be kept informed."

Carvin sat down again, hard.

"Do you…"

"We're searching, but there's no word," the man said. "How he got past the guards, twice, is unfathomable."

"Thank you," Carvin said, his voice strong though his mind was absent.

The man bowed, and then he left. Faidn blinked after him, then turned to Carvin.

"Well. I guess I'll saddle your horse, then."

"Huh?" Carvin said, again. His mind was racing. Nre gone. Kidnapped.

Faidn sighed impatiently.

"Why do I have to spell everything out to you tonight? Obviously that girl has not been wonderful for your thinking abilities."

Carvin was not in the mood for Faidn at that moment. He fixed his friend with a tired, frustrated look.

"If you're not going to help, go away."

"That's what I'm _trying—!_" Faidn exclaimed, then cut himself off and began again. "You're a noble man, Carvin. Skip the deliberation and tell me exactly what you _know_ you're going to do."

"Go after her," he breathed.

"Precisely," Faidn said, satisfied. "Go get a bag of provisions from the kitchen, and I'll get your horse ready. Meet me at the stables in ten minutes."

They both left the room, Faidn turning left, and Carvin right. He went into the kitchens, and the servants prepared a sack of food for him without questioning. Faidn had been right — there was no way he would have been okay just sitting in the palace doing nothing.

When he met Faidn in the stables, he learned another key piece of information; word of mouth had told the stable boys that one horse carrying three passengers at an unbelievable speed had entered the West Wood an hour past. Apparently one of them knew someone who was married to someone whose husband's friend lived in the town by the Wood, and the information had reached the palace in record time.

"Be safe," Faidn said, tightening the saddle and handing Carvin a small bag of food. "Find your damsel."

"Thanks, Fai," Carvin said, gripping Faidn's hand for a moment.

Then, he nickered to the horse, urging it into walk, then a trot. Within minutes, he was galloping down the road outside the palace, heading straight for the West Wood.

* * *

**Thoughts? A little different than the original, but I think it's a bit better. What do you all think?**

Mazzie**: Congrats on finishing NaNo! I hope you can comment a little more extensively this time. Or at all, really, since your last review didn't even mention the chapter at all. LOL.**

******EDIT: Thank you, **Eva **and **Lady Thorne****** for pointing out my typos!**  



	12. In Which People Are Generally Confused

**6 . 1 . 11**

**Happy new year! I'm sorry it took so long to update (if indeed there is anyone concerned about such things) but my computer died again shortly before the holidays, and I just got it back the day before yesterday. Since the only copy of Nasap was stuck on the dead computer's hard drive, I haven't been able to work on it at all. I'm hoping to get back into my groove soon, though, as I edit what I churned out during NaNo. **

**Since it's been so long, I'll give you all a RECAP: **

**Cam and Nre shared a kiss in the hallway [finally]. They had a weird feeling of a rope around their hands, and then Karl showed up and kidnapped them after much threatening. Nre was preoccupied by the irises' destruction, but thankfully Cam had his wits about him. Gloria and Thomas were stricken by Nre's kidnapping, but Gloria finally snapped after years of dealing with Thomas, walking away just as he possibly realized how much he needed her. Karl narrowly escaped telling his master where Cam and Nre went through a handy loophole in fiari magic, and Carvin's irksome day is ended with news of Nre's kidnapping. In an unusual burst of kindness toward Nre, Faidn convinced Carvin to go after Cam and Nre.**

**Again, please point out any typos or inconsistencies that you see; this is still a work in progress. And a special shout-out to **Mazzie **for faithfully reviewing. Thanks loads, friend; you make me smile.**

**Disclaimer: I am awful at poetry. Feel free to laugh at my rhymes.**

* * *

When Nre woke up, she yelped and almost fell off the horse. Being not particularly disposed to horses in general, she was acutely unused to the sensation of waking up on a moving horse — especially one that was moving far faster than any normal horse could dream of moving.

Nonetheless, she regained her composure with grace, and Cameron wasn't surprised that the first words out of her mouth composed a precisely worded attack.

"What the devil do you mean by this treachery?"

She struggled to grab the reigns — whether for balance or control it was hard to say — but, as Cameron had already discovered, the man had neatly bound their hands with some sort of magic. It was the same magic that was propelling them at a heart-stopping pace down the road on a steed that never seemed to tire, and the same magic that was somehow keeping Cameron in his seat. His hands were bound, and he had no way of holding onto Karl or anything else, yet he stayed firmly in the saddle. It was an altogether unsettling experience.

Nre's words were so faint as to be inaudible in the rushing wind, but their kidnapper seemed to hear them without any difficulty.

"I won't waste time answering pointless questions," Karl said, leaning forward further, away from Cameron, so he could speak into Nre's ear.

She shuddered at the proximity of the smooth voice, it reminded her inexplicably of the invisible rope she had felt earlier, and elbowed him hard in the chest. The man grunted in pain, but didn't retaliate; he muttered to himself words that Cameron couldn't catch on the wind and settled back to his hunched-over position on the horse. Empty fields and slight hills rushed past them.

Not for the first time, Cameron looked down at the horse, as if the appearance would give him any hint of how it was moving so fast. It looked painfully normal, if not larger and more thickly-set than most horses he was used to, and perhaps a bit too clean for having run so far on dusty roads. He shook his head, unsettled a bit beyond his will at the thought that he was riding some accursed creature of magic.

"This is absolutely senseless. There is no way you will get away with kidnapping a prince and princess from two powerful countries," Nre said, interrupting Cameron's thoughts and speaking again — louder this time.

Cameron thought it interesting to note that she was following the exact argument that he had tried, before Karl had gotten annoyed with the conversation and rendered Cameron mute. The man laughed, a little bitterly, and a little pained.

"I think I will, actually."

Nre looked up then and realized that they were leaving the road and entering the West Wood. The Wood was the source of all nightmare stories nannies told their wards to make them behave. Stories of warning surrounded the huge forested land on the westernmost tip of Ladyra. Whether or not they believed the stories, most people swore up and down that the Wood was infested with mischievous fairies and their enslaved human accomplices. Children were cautioned from birth about the deceptive fairy's kiss that will render a human its slave forever.

Nre and Cameron were too old for scary stories, but they couldn't help feeling the hair on the back of their neck rise as they approached the forest, the pace of the horse slowing gradually until it was walking.

Tall trees stretched into the night sky, grasping at the stars, and the sound of the leaves rustling in the breeze sounded almost like words. The moonlight glanced off the leaves and the bark, but an interminable darkness seemed to radiate from the heart of the forest. Indeed, as soon as they passed the treeline, the moon and stars all but disappeared, leaving them nearly blind. Hearts pounding, they looked around with wide eyes, trying to see. Mostly, they could only hear. The whispering of the leaves then grew more distinct, and Cameron swallowed hard when he began to recognize words amongst the soft shuffling noises of the Wood.

_Tut tut, another prince._

_Dear me, you would have thought they'd learn a lesson after Robitha..._

Cameron shook his head violently. He was imagining it; trees couldn't talk. The dark was playing tricks on him. He was thankful that his eyes were starting to adjust, so he could see his surroundings, though just barely. The Wood became less surreal when he could see it; it looked much like a normal wood.

"Who was that?" Nre asked, sounding a lot more frightened than he was sure she meant to.

_Oh ho, listen to that. More royalty. A princess._

_Are you borrowing them, Karl?_

"Something like that," Karl said.

_So much magic around them — I can barely tell their blood. _

_What mischief have you gotten yourself into this time, little friend?_

Karl didn't answer, instead reaching out a hand that Cameron noticed was shaking. Completing the bizarre moment, a slim branch seemed to drop directly into his hand's pathway, and Karl wrapped his fingers around it with a deep breath of what sounded like relief. After just a moment, he released the branch, and it sprung backward. He sat a little straighter after that.

They reached a small clearing, and Karl loosed the magical bindings then dismounted, turning to help Nre off the saddle. She shoved his hands away and glowered at him as she dismounted without aid, though a little clumsily. Cameron slid off the horse and stood beside her; she gripped his hand. They noticed with a bit of anxiety that Karl's mount disappeared, leaving behind a shimmering black butterfly that quickly flitted away. Karl opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but the trees interrupted him. This time, there was more than one voice speaking — it was an earthy chorus.

_Shouting men, no hunting sounds.  
__Disappear before you're found._

Before Cameron and Nre could properly decipher the odd rhyme, Karl grabbed their entwined hands in both of his own and held them with an impossible grip, despite their attempts to pull away, as he muttered another rhyme.

"_Fairy wind, blow us with speed,  
__Trees of life, pay us no heed,  
__From West Wood now to East I pray,  
__Blow us now, and don't delay."_

Cameron and Nre gasped as they were plunged into utter darkness.

"They really need a better rhyme," Karl grumbled from somewhere.

Other than his voice there was complete silence. And then there was a strong wind, stronger than any from the fiercest of storms. Their feet didn't move, but they were buffeted, tossed about like rag dolls tied down by their feet. Then, they had the frightening sensation that they were being blown away, their bodies unable to take the wind any longer. Nre tried to scream, but she had no voice anymore. She couldn't feel Cameron's hand — or her own. But in only moments, though they felt like hours, they were opening their eyes. Their bodies tingled faintly.

Cameron was much more concerned with ensuring that Nre was alright after that terrifying moment of blackness, but he knew immediately that they were nowhere near Berensia. He hadn't been paying any particular attention to the scenery, but the very smell of the place was foreign — dusty and dry instead of carrying hints of salty sea or lush, old forests.

He turned to Nre and took her hands comfortingly, eyes combing her over for anything out of place. Her eyes told him she was alright, though scared. Her fingers squeezed his, and she looked at their surroundings, eyebrows furrowed as she tried to place the setting. Cameron turned to Karl and asked the question that was on both of their minds.

"Where have you taken us?"

"The East Wood," Karl said impatiently. "Weren't you listening?"

There was a pause as Cameron considered asking where that was exactly (other than east, obviously), but he decided to bring up another pressing question.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Money? A bill passed? What?"

Karl looked at him, then looked up at the stars, as if for guidance.

_Patience, little one._

"I want—your—safety," he said, but his sentence was fragmented as he winced between words.

He exclaimed an unfamiliar word under his breath. Cameron wondered if the man was deranged; he took Nre's hand again and looked at her. Her eyes reflected a silver-blue in the moonlight, and they were wide with fear, though her mouth was set with determination.

"Let me tell you… what I can tell you," Karl said, slowly, almost gingerly. "What you need to know is that there is a—"

He jerked to a stop, sounding as if he'd been punched. He tried again.

"Is that," he rephrased, taking great care with his words, "you are in grave—danger."

He took a steadying breath, then went on.

"You are as safe here as you can be anywhere. Take new names. Blend in. Let no one know who you are. Your lives and many—"

He closed his eyes, cut off again. Cameron noticed suddenly that his fists were clenched and shaking, either with anger or… pain. _Is he in pain?_

"Your lives depend on your ability to blend in," Karl finally managed to say, with some difficulty.

"Who are you? Why should we believe you?" Cameron said, completely unconvinced, and wary. "It's easy to say we're in mortal peril, but for all we know, you're just trying to keep us quiet until you can get whatever it is you want from Berensia and Grendath. We could just walk to the nearest town and tell them who we are."

"You could," Karl acknowledged, "but I doubt they would know who you are." He paused. "I said before that you had to trust me. I swear on everything that is sacred in all of Ladyra that you will live to regret not heeding my instructions."

His eyes were dark, and they penetrated Nre's with their intensity. She caught her breath. _He is crazy,_ Nre thought. Karl blinked. He looked right at her, and his eyes sparkled in a way that she didn't altogether like. Before she could back away, Karl's voice slithered in her ears—no, too close: in her mind.

_Nah, I'm the sanest one here. But you've entered the realm of the Magic Folk, whether you like it or not, and things don't always make sense right away._

"Stop that!" Nre shrieked, stumbling backward and ripping her hand from Cameron's, holding her head.

She felt unraveled and violated. Karl grinned — not a pleasant expression; it looked like he was terribly out of practice.

"What did you do?" Cameron said menacingly, taking Nre's hands protectively and glaring at Karl.

"He—his voice was in—in my head," Nre stuttered.

"I'm sorry, but it's one of the best ways to communicate," Karl said, and suddenly his voice was winding around Cameron's thoughts.

_You're in far more danger than I can disclose even in the confines of your mind, Cameron. You should have been expecting an attack, but judging by your utter surprise, I assume you know nothing of Shayna's gift — which doesn't leave me in a good place._

_What is he talking about? _Cameron thought.

_If you'd pay attention, you'd know,_ Karl's voice said shortly. _Cameron, listen. You two have a great power, and— _He winced. _And it is a power that has not gone unnoticed._

"What power? What do we need to do?"

Karl smiled with about as much success as his grin. Hollow grimness echoed even in his thoughts.

_The only way to ensure it won't fall into the wrong hands is to use it, but using it will kill you — unless we are very careful._

"So you expect us to hide out here — wherever 'here' is — for… how long?"

_Until I am free to help you. I am bound by the tightest magic to a man who— _He swallowed a gasp.

"Wants to hurt us?" Cameron hazarded.

Nre, who could only hear half the conversation, was looking between them both, trying to decode Karl's half by his expressions and Cameron's responses. As far as she could tell, there was some sort of power, and it was dangerous, and Karl wanted them to hide from someone who wanted to hurt them. Judging by the intensity of Karl's look, Cameron had guessed right about that.

The man finally spoke again.

"Follow the road into the village, and knock on the door of the house with the small tree in the front yard. Tell Sandra that I sent you, and she will look after you."

He turned to Nre, looking genuinely apologetic.

"I'm very sorry. I know how women are about their hair. But, for your safety, you need to cut it to the chin, and masquerade as a boy."

"What?" Nre cried. The plans were getting more and more ridiculous.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "You must understand — we are in a country that is much further behind the Western countries. I brought you here because information doesn't easily enter or leave Ellespeth, so you should be able to go undetected until I find you again. However, to make up for the fragmented monarchy, local authorities have basically taken over, enforcing social rules to an inane degree. A woman found in the company of a man without a marriage license is subject to death without trial."

Cameron and Nre looked at each other, then looked at Karl. The idea of such near anarchy was something they had only read about.

"I must go," Karl said, his voice suddenly urgent. "I'll find you."

The last word was barely out of his mouth when he disappeared.

* * *

Carvin approached the West Wood as the sun was beginning to rise. The forest looked no less ominous in the breaking day than it had in the dead of the night. He took a deep breath as he entered the wood, telling himself that it was childish to be apprehensive of the forest.

_It's just a forest,_ he said, shaking his head. Nevertheless, he rode cautiously along the deer path, and his head snapped back and forth at every noise. There were legends and myths revolving around the wood, and though half of them were either completely false, or else exaggerations of true stories, he wanted to take no risks.

_Another soldier..._

The leaves' rustling seemed to form that phrase. He shook the thought out of his head and kept listening. The trees whispered again, but they didn't say anything. _See, Carvin? Just the breeze._

Carvin hadn't gone very far before his horse snorted and skittered backward, startling him. He leaned forward and looked down to see what had startled it, and his eyes widened.

Nre's dead body was lying in front of him.

His heart stopped, and he couldn't breathe. He dismounted so quickly he almost fell off the horse and knelt beside the body. He reached out to touch her arm, but it immediately disappeared. The horse whinnied again and started to bolt, but Carvin grasped the reigns just in time. He jumped to his feet, still shaky from the image, barely able to catch his breath.

Apparently the stories weren't all contrived; this had to be magic.

"What do you want with me, fairy?" he yelled, quickly climbing back onto his horse in case he needed to make an escape.

"Why are you here?"

The voice, feminine, rang in his right ear.

"I am on a search," he said, trying to buy some time as he silently slipped his dagger from its sheath under his tunic.

"You're not the only one. I assume you're looking for the Prince and Princess as well."

"Yes," he said, trying to pinpoint the voice and calm his nerves, which were still jumpy from the image of Nre. He had one chance.

"How funny you humans are about your royalty," the woman's voice mused.

Carvin took his chance, whipping his dagger out of its sheath and thrusting the hilt furiously in the direction of the voice. There was a muffled cry of pain and something struck the ground beside him. Carvin carefully dismounted, keeping a tight hold of the reigns and scanning the ground for the fairy.

He spotted it crawling away and dropped the reigns, lunging for it. Miraculously, he felt his fingers close around the struggling body as his horse ran wildly into the woods. He muttered something angrily and stood up, brushing his pants off.

The glowing, black fairy glared at him and poked her head out in between his fingers, attempting to squeeze through. He wrapped his index finger and thumb around her waist tightly until she gasped for breath and stopped moving, still glowering.

"What do you wish of me? You've caught me, so now I suppose I must subject myself to the menial task of wish granting. At least you're not a Shaynon."

"A what?"

Her bitter laugh echoed against the trees.

"This will work well for me. Answer me four riddles and I shall send you to the East Wood and your love."

"The East Wood? That's where they are?"

"So the trees say," the fairy shrugged. "Do you accept?"

"What if I don't solve the riddles?"

"Then I will disappear, and fly away, and you'll have to find your own way there, or out of here."

"I don't seem to have much of a choice, do I?" he said. "Give me your word."

"How droll," she said, rolling her eyes. "I swear on the essence of magic that I will uphold my end of the deal."

Carvin felt like string closed around his hand, tightening, then disappearing: the magical spell that followed her promise.

"Now please, let go of me. I will change into human form; that would be more comfortable to you, I think."

He hesitated.

"I just gave you my word," she said, annoyed.

He loosened his grip slightly, and she grasped Carvin's finger with her tiny hand for balance. She changed in the blink of an eye to a woman. Long brown curls fell around her pale shoulders and neck while deep green eyes watched his reaction to the transformation: shock and awe. Her blood red lips curled into a smile and she stepped forward, her pine green dress slipping effortlessly behind her. The neck was far too wide to be proper, almost completely exposing her smooth shoulder.

"Are you ready, my lord?"

"I–yes. I am," he replied, shaking his thoughts from the picturesque person in front of him.

_Fairy, not person,_ he reminded himself.

She smiled again and began.

"_Envy and wonder follow her daily  
__Young men and old dance with her gaily  
__A look in the glass, her thoughts bittersweet,  
__The line where appearance and character meet._

What is she?"

* * *

Delmun rubbed his forehead. Thyatira had traveled from Grendath as soon as the news reached her and arrived at the Berensian palace just an hour ago — a minor miracle of traveling mercies. She took his hand comfortingly.

"I'm sure they'll find them," she said softly. "All the best soldiers of Berensia and Grendath are searching the country and the Wood."

Delmun just nodded and gripped his wife's hand. He was glad she had come; things seemed a little less bleak when she was around.

"Worrying won't make them appear," she said, smoothing a wrinkle from his forehead and letting her hand linger. "You can write another letter to Molln and Ladyra, telling them of the emergency."

Delmun kissed her fingers.

"Yes. That would be a better use of my time."

He pulled out a piece of parchment from the desk and picked up a quill, then began to write.

* * *

Mazzie**: Haha, I laughed, too. I thought it was pretty funny. Karl… he appeared at about the same time in the original, but in a **_**completely **_**different way, so that's what you might be thinking of. A 50k-word novel isn't dismal! Well, depending on your plot. You could definitely write a novel in 50k words, if your plot wasn't mind-bogglingly complex or long. Hah, Gloria and Thomas definitely need to talk to a marriage counselor. Though I'm not certain they exist. I hadn't given it a lot of thought. Honestly, I think "advisors" would probably have to deal with stuff like that, along with political, economical, and secretarial tasks. Yikes. What a job. Posting things to get reviews is lovely. I highly suggest it. Did you get any time to read it over on your holiday?**

**Reviewers get a Lindt truffle of their choice!**

**EDIT: Thank you, **Eva**, for pointing out my typos!**


	13. In Which There Is a Cute Little Girl

**12 . 1 . 11**

**This is my attempt to conform to a more weekly updating schedule. Six days. Bien, non? And I've now cleaned up my NaNo writing, so I've got some chapters ready to go, and some more that are only missing a scene or two.**

**I hope everyone is having a wonderful new year! And a productive beginning to the semester/quarter, for those who are in school. Now, back to Cameron and Nre. Stuck in a foreign land, with Nre now sporting a flapper-do, what on earth is going on?**

* * *

After Karl disappeared, Cameron and Nre noticed a small pack that he must have left for them. Inside were two sets of clothes, one for each of them, but nothing else. Nre was shivering in her thin day dress and bare feet, so they changed right away.

It took Nre longer to adjust herself to the clothes than Cameron. His outfit was similar to what he normally wore, though with a slightly different style and a distinct lack of tailoring (an unfortunate occurrence, as his shoulders were a bit broad to be comfortable in a typical shirt). Nre outfit, however, included pants, which was an article of clothing she had never familiarized herself with, as they were generally considered improper.

After Nre had finished fingering her hair and sighing, Cameron nervously cut it to her chin. She looked a little ragtag, but they agreed that it was probably good enough to be going on with.

Then, since Karl had left them with no blankets — much less food — Nre and Cameron had little choice but to start walking down the road he indicated and hope that the town he mentioned wasn't too far away.

The first hour wasn't bad, as they were still running on some adrenaline. However, as the moon continued to rise across the unfamiliar sky, their now sore feet began to drag, and their eyelids began to droop.

Cameron estimated that they had walked five or so miles, with still no town in sight, when they finally stopped for the night under the only tree they could see for miles. So tired they could barely see straight, they collapsed in the dappled silver shade, Cameron's back against the tree, and Nre's against Cameron. Their hands found each other, and they fell instantly to sleep.

* * *

The next day, Gloria avoided Thomas, which wasn't hard to do. He spent most of the day in border control meetings, because there was far too much to discuss to simply disband the conference entirely. When he was done with meetings, Gloria sequestered herself in her study to stay out of his way, writing letters requesting aid to all the surrounding countries.

Halfway through her letter to Liot, her study door opened.

"No, thank you," she said without looking up. "Just bring me a cup of tea, please."

There wasn't a reply, and the door didn't close. She sighed and put down her quill, preparing to deal with probably Lois, who was intent on making her eat. (Apparently, since her charge was gone, she was going to earn her wages by taking care of the queen.) However, instead of the motherly nurse, it was Thomas who had interrupted her.

He stood in the doorway, hand on the knob of the door, which was open just enough to admit him. As she looked at him, he stepped forward and closed the door behind him. He looked old, and his eyes tried to meet hers, but she looked back down and picked up the quill again.

She wrote another sentence, and Thomas didn't say anything. She easily blocked his presence from her mind (had it been this easy for Thomas to ignore her?) and continued writing, until he walked in front of her desk and, after a moment's hesitation, knelt. He was on eye level, though the desk separated them.

"Gloria," he started.

She didn't look at him. Her quill formed the next word in shining ink.

"Gloria, please," he tried again, his voice rough — though from what, Gloria didn't allow herself to think.

She continued to ignore him, continuing on with the letter. He swore under his breath.

"You can't ignore me forever!"

"I learned from the best," she said, her voice almost monotone, and signed the paper twice: once with her name, and once with Thomas'.

Thomas looked at the paper and blinked. His signature was flawless.

"How long have you been doing that?"

She flicked her eyes upward, then back down to the paper, folding it up and putting it into the envelope before adding it to the stack of envelopes waiting to be sent out. Thomas caught her hand as she pulled it back from the stack. Gloria wiggled it free and grabbed another piece of parchment a little angrily.

"I'm—sorry," Thomas said suddenly, sounding like he was having a lot of trouble with the words.

Gloria's grip on the quill loosened a little.

"I deserve this. I deserve more than this."

Gloria did agree with that. She kept her eyes down, but she didn't write.

"But I'm begging you to forgive me."

"One apology isn't going to make everything right," Gloria said, her voice low and hurt. "How convenient that you come running with apologies as soon as I realize I'm better off not caring about you. What kind of twisted thought is that? Do you just love to see me miserable?"

Her words were harsh and biting, and they cut Thomas deeper than even Gloria had thought they would.

"No, Gloria," he said, frustrated and pained. "I don't want you to be miserable. I never _wanted _you to be miserable. I wanted you to…"

"Be cut off? To not know who you are anymore? Well, congratulations," she snapped, slamming the quill onto the desk and standing up.

His pain was making her even more angry. As if _he _had the right to pretend he hadn't broken her heart a thousand times over in the past five years. She couldn't even remember when it had started exactly, but he had remained impassive, while she had crept closer and closer to oblivion with each day. He had no grounds to pretend that whatever he was feeling, she hadn't felt a hundredfold. She started to leave, but Thomas stood in front of her.

"I wanted you to be _safe_," he said, his eyes staring into hers in a way that had once taken her breath away.

"And you thought that ignoring me for years would somehow keep me safe from… what?"

She crossed her arms. Unbidden, she felt tears of injustice threatening to well up in her eyes. She willed them back.

"From—everything," Thomas said, gesturing helplessly as he tried to explain everything that was running through his mind. "From politics, from plots, from information that no parent should ever have to know."

"I'm not made of _glass,_" Gloria said, with too much force.

It was a sentiment she had wanted to express for years and now the thought had finally found release. The words floated through the air — and then they were gone. Years of frustration finally given a voice, and the echoes were gone in an instant. It was almost anticlimactic.

"I know you're not," Thomas said, and his voice was a lot softer. "But I didn't want you to have to deal with it."

"But I'm the Queen," she insisted. "And I'm Alph and Nre's mother. You had no right to keep it from me, any of it."

"I just wanted—"

"I know what you wanted," she said. "I'm very aware. Do you want to know what _I _wanted, Thomas?"

They looked at each other. Blue eyes met brown, and unimaginable pain was mirrored in both.

"What?" he said, his voice almost inaudible.

"I wanted to have a say in decisions," she said, remembering the first law Thomas passed without talking it over with her first. "I wanted to know what was going on. I wanted to help you. I wanted to be on your side. And…" she trailed off, memories flooding her mind with every sentence. She finished in a whisper. "I wanted someone who wanted me."

There was a silence. Her tears finally betrayed her; one trailed down her cheek. She couldn't bear to look at Thomas anymore, his blue eyes so unfamiliar, reminding her all too much of the man she had married so many years ago. The man who had left her alone for years.

"Gloria—"

But she was already running out the door.

* * *

"Sarah!" a young girl whispered urgently in Sarah's ear.

Sarah, who had been enjoying a mildly pleasant dream about market day, opened her eyes and sat up straight, looking frightened. Her eyes automatically searched the room, but it was filled with sleeping servants, like always.

"What is it, Rose?" she asked, turning to her small, dark haired friend. "Is the master—"

"No. He's still asleep," Rose said, her voice too quiet and her eyes downcast nervously. "He told Mari that breakfast needed to be ready an hour earlier today."

Sarah sighed, her heart slowing a little. Rose really had a way of scaring the life out of her sometimes by making everything sound like a matter of life and death, especially when she was sleeping. Sarah stood up and then helped Rose to her feet.

"Why didn't Mari tell me last night? You scared me out of my mind, waking me up like that, you know."

"He only told her last night, after we went to bed," Rose said. "She just came and woke me up a few minutes ago, then sent me to get you." Rose paused, then added in a quieter voice, "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's alright," Sarah muttered with a sigh, then yawned.

They crept quietly from the chilly slaves' room, avoiding the creaky boards, into the slightly warmer house. They both rubbed their hands together in an attempt to warm themselves, knowing that Mari wouldn't let them near the stove, especially not since it was an hour earlier than normal, and so that much colder. Rose and Sarah were always sent to do the tasks outside the kitchen while Mari kept warm by the fire.

When they reached the kitchen, it was already warm and sweet smelling; Mari was baking some apples she had just bought the previous day for a pretty penny, and they were mouth watering. As they entered the small room, Mari gave them orders without even looking up from the dough she was mixing for the biscuits.

"Sarah, go get the eggs. Rose, go pick some fresh vegetables from the garden."

The girls both replied with a quick, "Yes, ma'am," and left through the kitchen door to go about their tasks. As the youngest slave, thirteen year old Rose had to do the most menial and frustrating tasks, such as uprooting vegetables from the rock hard soil. The soil was hard enough during the day, since it was so dry, but after a cold night, it was practically frozen. As they left the kitchen, Sarah pulled Rose aside.

"I'll help you with that when I finish the eggs, so don't rush. Try not to break the carrots this time."

Rose nodded and blushed, ducking her head. They headed their separate ways, Rose heading toward the small garden around the back of the house, and Sarah walking toward the chicken coop in the side yard.

Sarah entered the chicken coop, grateful for a respite from the frigid pre-dawn air, and quieted the chickens, taking the basket from the nail it hung on and gathering the eggs swiftly. She finished in just a few minutes, scolding the hens when they tried to peck her hands and kicking away the rooster as it tried to make its claim on the coop. She then settled the basket comfortably on her arm and stepped back out into the cold air, shivering as she walked back behind the house to the garden. Setting the basket on the ground, she rolled up her sleeves and joined Rose.

"I'll get the carrots, you pick some tomatoes," she said.

Rose nodded and moved to the tomato patch, leaving Sarah to pry the unwilling vegetables from the ground. As Sarah worked, her mind began to wonder if every day would be like this, or if someday, someone would come over that horizon and break the monotony of existence, at least for a while. She shook her head and glanced up at the road, just in case, but it was empty — as always.

* * *

"Look! There it is!" Nre said, pointing toward the dark spot a couple of miles ahead that was now discernible as a town and not a patch of low shrubbery.

They had been walking since dawn, when they had both awoken quite uncomfortably and very grouchily. They spent at least ten minutes stretching out cricks in their backs and stiffness in their limbs, then stamping their feet to encourage their bodies to warm up faster.

Since that point, their moods had not really cheered, especially since every passing step seemed to lead them no closer to the town Karl had promised.

In addition, their feet were now woefully sore, and Nre was sure she was suffering from at least four blisters. Cameron's boots were uncomfortable as well, but his feet were at least used to boots, unlike Nre's. Their stomachs were also grumbling loudly, as neither of them had eaten since dinner the night before, and it was now going on noon.

For that reason, Cameron was so grateful at Nre's statement that he hugged her.

"Get off, you great lump," Nre said, but she couldn't help laughing as she pushed him away. "It's getting hot enough out here without you adding to the oppression."

Nre was right. Although the night had been miserably cold, the day was promising to be a scorcher, and Nre's cheeks were already flushed with the heat.

"You ready to be a boy?" Cameron asked, smiling at her.

"I think so," Nre said, then dropped her voice as low as she could make it. "How's this for a boy-voice?"

Cameron burst into laughter.

"How about you just try to avoid talking," he suggested, ruffling her short hair. "You sound like you haven't hit puberty yet but are pretending that you have."

He considered that for a moment as they walked on, the sun beating down on their heads unrelentingly.

"Actually, that would sort of work. Lots of boys are embarrassed if their voice doesn't drop right away. But still, you should probably let me do the talking if you can help it."

"Fine," she sighed, but she knew he was right.

"Remember to try to blend in. Keep your head down. Act like a slave."

"Right."

"Oh, and stay close to me as much as you can," he added. "Slaves probably shouldn't carry weapons, so you won't have anything to defend yourself with if someone attacks."

"Okay."

"And—"

"Cam! I'll be fine! You're sounding like Lois," she said in exasperation.

"Sorry."

He grinned and kissed her cheek, and she smiled.

"Now, don't do that while we're in town, Cam," she laughed.

He looked innocent.

A few hours later they entered the town, and Cameron thought it looked dilapidated. It appeared that the townspeople had very little with which to fix up their buildings, but they did the best with what they had. Every repair looked trim, although they rarely used typical lumber or siding. Wooden crates that had been torn apart and pieced together seemed to be the repair resource of choice.

A thin layer of dust covered everything as well, even the people, who ambled through the streets with baskets and lists, cheerily greeting each other and Cameron and Nre as they went about their business. Their clothes were often patched in the same way as their houses — with unconventional materials, but meticulous skill. Nre was sure that some of the patches had been cut from sacks or curtains.

They saw many other children and adults sporting haircuts very similar to Nre's. It didn't take too long to identify that it was only the slaves that had chin-length hair. Men's hair was typically shorter, and women's hair was typically longer. Slaves of either gender, however, had hair that reached more or less to their chin — where Karl had instructed Cameron to cut Nre's.

All in all, it seemed a pleasant enough place — not what they had been expecting from Karl's grim portrayal of the country the night before. They walked through the main road of the town, murmuring "good afternoon"s and polite "excuse me"s as they went, and kept an eye out for the home Karl had mentioned: the house with the small tree in the front yard.

Cameron had been worried that they wouldn't be able to find it, but the near-desert climate made the small tree in Sandra's yard the only one for miles.

They followed the small path to the rickety front door, and Cameron knocked.

The house looked a little more run-down than its neighbors. The holes and cracks were patched more haphazardly, and the entire house looked like it would heave a huge sigh and collapse at any moment.

There was a minute of silence, and Cameron was about to knock again when he heard small, quick footsteps running toward the door. There was a pause, a rattle of chain, and then the door was being pulled backward. Cameron noticed that the door was almost falling off its hinges, so the corner of the door was dragging on the dirt floor as it was opened.

A girl, she looked about 8, peered around the edge of the door cautiously.

"Hello," she said, giving them a bit of a puzzled smile. "Who are you?"

Nre noticed that she stayed mostly behind the door, and her fingers fidgeted with the edge. She looked slightly nervous, but her eyes kept flicking to Cameron's hair, which Nre saw was almost as red as the girl's own.

"We're travelers," Cameron said, bowing to her. "Is—"

He was about to ask after Sandra, but the girl's eyes widened, a smile struck her face, and she screamed. Cameron was taken aback — even more so when the girl slammed the door in his face with enough force — Nre thought — to knock the whole house down.

"Mommy, mommy, come _here!" _they could hear her shrieking as the small footsteps pounded away.

"This _is _the right house, isn't it?" Nre whispered nervously.

"It's the only tree in the whole town," Cameron replied, mystified.

Just then, the door opened once more, its corner digging further into the rut in the dirt that it had created. A tall woman, eye level with Cameron, opened the door. He noticed a tinge of fear in her warm brown eyes. The girl was at her side, blind to her mother's discomfort as she chattered excitedly.

"—red hair, like you said, Momma, and then he _bowed, _like you always—"

"Oh, Reese," the woman said, visibly relaxing. "There are other red haired men in the world who know how to bow, you know."

"It's not Daddy?" the girl said, crestfallen.

"No, baby," the woman said, ruffling the girl's wildly red hair.

Then she looked at Cameron. Her relief was replaced with wariness as she seemed to remember that she had no idea who these people were. Her eyes looked the strangers up and down. There was nothing out of place about a man and his servant, but she'd learned not to trust even the most benign of apparitions.

"Go wait inside, Reese," she said to the girl, pushing her back in the door protectively, and fixing Cameron with a hard look. "Who are you?"

It suddenly occurred to Cameron that he hadn't thought of a name, so he said the most common one he could think of.

"Nathaniel," he replied, feeling the sounds in his mouth and trying to reconcile them to himself. "Are you Sandra?"

"Yes," the woman said, eyes narrowing. The hand that had been resting on the door now looked ready to slam it shut. "What do you want?"

"Karl sent us to you," Cameron said cautiously. "He said you could give us a place to stay?"

"Karl?" she said, disbelievingly. "Describe him."

"Average height, dark hair?" Cameron tried.

Nre sighed next to him and thought about interjecting, but knew it would be risky, especially when the woman looked on the verge of stabbing them or slamming the door at any moment.

"He's a Magic Folk of some kind," Cameron added, when Sandra did not seem convinced.

"Where are you from? Why did he send you here?" she fired off, looking, if anything, more suspicious.

Cameron looked at Nre. He wasn't sure how much he could say. Karl had said to stay with her, not to tell her everything that was going on. They had no way of knowing how trustworthy she was. Nre looked as tense as he did.

"Not from Ellespeth," he hedged. "It has a lot to do with things that Karl couldn't really talk about."

Apparently those were the magic words, because Sandra's brow lightened, and she opened the door the rest of the way.

"You are welcome in my home, then," she said, "what little of it there is."

They entered the house with murmured thanks, relieved to be out of the hot sun. They were in the front room which led directly into what looked like the kitchen. The floors were dirt, packed down and dry, and the walls were made of the same fragile wood that the rest of the house was constructed with.

"I'm sorry for all the questions," Sandra said, pushing her fair hair over her shoulder. Nre was transfixed by how thick it was, and how elegant it looked, though it was knotted. "Ellespeth has much to fear, and my family even more than most."

Reese poked her head around the corner of the kitchen entrance and, seeing that they were all inside, ran up to her mother and grabbed her hand.

"Who are they?" she asked, looking at the strangers.

"Friends of Karl," Sandra said.

"Who's Karl?"

"Don't be silly, Reese," Sandra said, poking Reese's nose. "He's that nice man that gave you Gretchen. Now, why don't you show her to Nathaniel while I make some lunch?"

"Oh!" Reese cried. "I remember Karl. Come with me, Nathaniel!"

She transferred her grip from Sandra to Cameron seamlessly and dragged him toward the kitchen.

"Would you mind if the boy helped me?" Sandra asked Cameron.

After a quick look at Nre, Cameron said, "No, that's fine."

He then disappeared around the corner with Reese.

"What's your name?" Sandra asked kindly, handing Nre a loaf of bread to slice.

"Uhm—Taylor," Nre said, saying the first name that came to her. _Taylor. That's not too bad._

Nre was nervous at first, unsure if her disguise would fool anyone at all, much less someone who seemed as sharp-eyed as Sandra. However, it was soon apparent that no one paid much mind to slaves. Sandra gave her a few directions, and Nre followed them wordlessly, grateful that she knew something about working in the kitchen from all her excursions to the palace kitchen in her life.

She was never allowed to simply taste-test the food the cooks were preparing; she was instead required to assist in the preparation. And, with all the meals she had sampled over the years, Nre knew something about cooking — or at least, the wielding of kitchen utensils.

After lunch, Sandra told Reese to show them around the town, which the girl did with much enthusiasm, talking nonstop about her pet mouse. Cameron, who had spent over an hour hearing Reese extol Gretchen's virtues, tuned the girl out for the most part, adding a genuine smile and a nod to the monologue every once in a while — and interrupting her to ask what the buildings were that they were passing.

She pointed out the apothecary, the bakery, the pub, the pie shop, the cobbler, the potter, the blacksmith, the general store, and the hatter. All of them looked in sad shape, but the people they passed didn't seem to notice. A few of them greeted Cameron and Reese, but their eyes slid over Nre as if she wasn't there, a feeling that Nre was not at all used to, and didn't like.

Reese, however, was unbothered by the fact that Nre was quite obviously a slave; she directed most of her conversation to the silent, attentive slave boy, who looked most interested in what she had to say. And, Nre noticed, Reese barely addressed any adults unless they talked to her first. She mostly shouted greetings to the other slaves, who spared her smiles that lit up their tired faces. One dark-haired girl who looked to be in her teens and walked like a terrible weight was on her shoulders kind of twitched a smile back at Reese, but even that expression made her hunch her shoulders a little less. Reese made everyone she talked to walk a little straighter and smile a little wider — even if all she did was talk about Gretchen.

Nre couldn't help a smile as the girl chattered on.

* * *

Carvin's answer came quickly.

"A beauty, that was easy."

"They get harder, my lord. Perhaps you would try the second?"

"Yes."

"Very well."

She appeared to think for a moment before reciting.

"_Good at listening, secret-keeping,_

_Can't reveal why she is wee__ping,_

_Trapped and captured, who can see?_

_To this riddle, sound is key._

What is she missing?"

* * *

**Any guesses about the riddle? What do you think of Sandra? Gloria and Thomas?**

Mazzie**: -chuckle- You startled your dog? Poor thing. Ha. I'm glad to have pleased you. I'm just very grateful that you keep reviewing. Uhh... no, Cam and Nre did not run off together. The situation was a bit different in the original, because Cam was a willing part of the kidnapping, but Nre was still very much taken against her will. Don't reread! It's not worth it, I promise. -sweatdrop- Baha, vampirates indeed. You're definitely right. But only in a Helen-Keller-In-Apples-To-Apples kind of way. :-P**

Eva**: Ahh! I was so happy to see your reviews I almost squee-d. I have dearly missed your feedback. 9: I'm so glad you think this story is (at least a bit) more balanced than the original. I AM trying to make it flow better and just be better in general, at least marginally, so it's nice to know that I'm succeeding there. 10: Thanks for pointing out those typos - I'll be fixing those momentarily and giving you a shout-out at the bottom of the chapters. -smile- I think you've hit the nail on the head about Faidn and Nre's interactions. Nre just doesn't know how to handle someone that disregards the rules so much! I'm not certain I agree with your comment about the proposal scene, though: don't immature romantic moments seem to the participants like the most grown-up and serious thing in the world? She wouldn't be reminded of her immaturity at all, I don't think. If anything, she would feel a lot older! I'm glad the plot twists are making more sense this time around, too. 11: Haha! I'm sorry if the kissing scene made you uncomfortable, but the intensity was intentional for a few obvious reasons (they're young, it's forbidden love, etc.) and a few that you may or may not catch onto, but I know. Good eye, recognizing the magic. -grin- The mention of wishes isn't a plot faux pas - Karl assumes they know about them, since he's been talking with Thomas, and Cam glazes over it because the man is obviously insane and needs to get lost. I'm glad you like Karl, though. Ah, my tortured fiari. Haha. Interesting observation about Gloria. Perhaps she's just decided to act, and there's no turning back now. At least not without colossal effort on Thomas' part. That's how I view her, anyway. It's a bit like how I might react. I'm also pleased that you're enjoying the Vin/Fai dynamic. There wasn't nearly enough of it in the original to show what good friends they are. I also like how they seem to trade places sometimes. Mostly, Faidn is childish and Carvin has to hit him on the head with common sense, but when Carvin can't figure something out, Faidn rolls his eyes and steps up to the plate. 12: Alas. You are right. I'll fix that description post-haste and give you a shout out for that. The rhyming spells were so painful I felt I had to make fun of them somehow, and who else could do that but Karl? -chuckle- I should warn you that Karl does very little seducing in Nasap. He's quite the ladykiller in Jab, but he's a bit distracted by... bigger things... in this one to do TOO much. Although it's a there a bit. (I couldn't help myself.) Nope, Robitha has no connection to anything (yet). Bravo on guessing the riddle! Have a scone for your trouble; it's fresh out of the oven, spread with butter and delicious home-made blackberry jam from the west coast. Thyatira is just what she needs, isn't she? There might be a scene with them later... -smile-**

**Reviewers get a deli sandwich from your nearest mom-and-pop bread and deli store. Fresh, fluffy bread and cheese from a nearby farm! Enjoy!**


	14. In Which Thomas Mans Up

**17 . 1 . 11**

**Happy MLK day, everyone!**

**Note: A lot of this was copied from the original, so bear with me. It also has a lot of quick scene-changes; I thought that was the best way to show the scene. **

**

* * *

**

The sun had just set, and Nre and Cameron were sitting behind Sandra's house taking a few minutes to be alone with themselves; everything was still and peaceful. Then, a shriek rent the air.

* * *

"Lazy layabout! Squashed tomatoes! I hope this helps you learn about taking care of my vegetables!" the Master yelled, taking Rose by the shoulder and shaking her; his other hand held the switch.

Rose flinched, her face paling as she imagined what would happen next. Sarah's mind raced as she stood next to the other servants who had been called to witness the punishment.

_No, it's not true! I looked at the tomatoes myself! They were perfect..._

Voicing her objections wasn't even an option, though; that would just be asking for a worse beating, and Rose would probably get a worse one, too. She'd seen the Master angry before, and she knew she had to wait it out. _But Rose didn't do anything wrong. _Nevertheless, Sarah was forced to watch as Rose was shoved against the wall, cowering while the Master raised the horrible switch.

The slaves watched impassively; this wasn't the first time little clumsy Rose had done something to upset the Master, and they knew there was nothing they could do about it. So they just stood there.

Sarah could not block the scene from her mind. No matter how hard she tried to think of something else, as she usually did when there was a beating, she could still hear the whistle of the switch through the air as he brought it down on her back, tearing her dress back to shreds.

Rose didn't make a sound, her fingers gripping the wall. Her eyes were shut, but her face was as impassive as those of the slaves watching her injustice. The lash was brought down again, this time on her now unprotected back. She didn't make a sound. The lash struck her back a third time, and a whimper escaped her mouth, barely heard.

_I can't watch, _Sarah thought, looking away. _Not again._

Four. Rose could no longer stifle the pain. Usually she was only lashed three times; she just couldn't hold it in any longer; she screamed in agony, hastening the next blow as the Master yelled.

"Hush, girl! You don't know what pain _is _yet!"

He directed his next blow at an unbloodied bit of skin; her lower leg had come out from under her dress. Rose bit her lip with all her might, drawing blood, and the lash cut angry lines into her leg.

* * *

Nre and Cameron started, Nre's eyes wide with concern.

"What was that?" she whispered. "Was that a human?"

"It was a girl," Cameron said, jumping to his feet and walking away from the glow of the horizon. "I'm certain it was a girl. And it came from that house."

Nre pushed herself to her feet and trotted after him.

* * *

Five. Rose's head was bowed, but Sarah could see tears streaming down her cheeks.

_No! This isn't right!_ she suddenly thought, her blood running, hot, then cold.

Sarah's willpower snapped and she lunged for the switch, grabbing it before it hit Rose's back again.

"Leave her alone!" she shrieked, trying to rip the switch from the Master's hands. "The tomatoes were perfect! I inspected them myself!"

The slaves turned to Sarah, most of them shaken from whatever they had been thinking of to distract themselves from the scene in front of them. Sarah felt like a wild animal, barely a human anymore. She was so angry, she couldn't see straight. The Master yanked the switch from Sarah's grasp badly cutting her hands, but she didn't seem to notice. She stood between the Master and Rose, who was crumpled on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to stifle her tears.

"How dare you! Impertinent child!" he said, face red and frightening.

"She didn't do anything wrong!" Sarah said, eyes blazing. She had the sickening feeling that whatever had possessed her was going to get her killed.

"Get out of my way!" he thundered.

"No!" Her voice was almost as loud as his, full of the anger that had been building inside of her since she'd been sold into slavery when she was five.

"Sarah, I am warning you!"

"Leave her alone!" Her voice was raw, but she didn't move.

The switch was brought down furiously on her arm, lacing it with angry red stripes. Sarah winced, but didn't move. The Master raised the switch again, but then stopped himself and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the door. A few slaves stumbled out of the way, desperate to stay out of the Master's path.

He opened the door and shoved her in the small of her back, causing her to fall out the door and hit the porch with a painful thump.

"I hope the coyotes find your sorry carcass," he hissed, slamming the door.

Sarah pulled herself to her feet and tried to open the door, but it was locked. She almost collapsed, but her mind was racing too fast to stay still. The only thing she could think was to run. Far, and fast. She started off the porch, running down the hill, then collided with someone, sending them both sprawling.

"What happened? Is everything alright?" he said quickly, getting off the ground and pulling her to her feet by her right arm.

Sarah yelped in pain and pulled away from his hand, now bloodied. He looked down and saw the blood, eyes widening.

"What happened?" he repeated urgently.

"It's just a beating, sir," she said, keeping her eyes low. "I'm sorry for running into you, sir. It won't happen again."

"That's the least of my concerns," he said, and his voice was soft.

"I'll get a bandage," a quiet voice said behind him.

Sarah looked up sharply and saw another slave turning around and running lightly to Sandra's house.

"Is everyone all right?" the man asked.

"It's nothing to concern yourselves with," Sarah said, her courage vanished.

The man didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else on the subject.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Sarah, sir," she said.

"My name is Nathaniel," he said.

She nodded, wondering why he was introducing himself like she actually mattered to anyone. The slave returned with a bandage and began wrapping her arm. Sarah took this opportunity to look at the face that had previously been shadowed by Nathaniel. A small boyish face and short brown hair with sparkling blue eyes were all she could see in the dusky light.

"Thank you," Sarah said, unsmiling.

The boy nodded wordlessly and stood behind Nathaniel again.

"Where will you stay tonight, Sarah?" Nathaniel asked.

"I don't know. Probably the chicken coop, to stay warm."

She again wondered why he cared. There was something strange about this man. Nathaniel pursed his lips but said nothing more.

"Fare well, then, Sarah."

"Fare well, my lord Nathaniel," she said with a bow.

She turned to go, noticing Nathaniel's gaze as it rested on the Master's house. He was thinking about something.

* * *

When Thomas entered Gloria's study again the next day, it was with much more determination, and he was much harder to ignore. Gloria considered taking over one of the unused rooms, so he would stop walking in on her when she was clearly trying to avoid him.

"I know you're angry at me," Thomas started saying, and his voice was even more confident than it had been the day before, "and you have every right to be. I apologized for the way I have treated you, and I don't blame you for not accepting my apology. However."

He walked over to her desk and put his hands on it, very close to the letter she was writing. Gloria still did not look up. She was definitely going to move her study. The books would be a pain to move, but it would be manageable.

"However," Thomas repeated, "Right now, Nre is in danger. More danger than either of us can guess, I suspect. And while it may be too late for us to help her, I think we need to try."

Thomas had just said one of the only things that would make Gloria listen to him, and he knew it. She slowly looked up, then she gestured to the chair that was pushed against the wall away from the door.

"Does this have to do with Karl?" she asked as he pulled the chair over to her desk and sat down.

He looked surprised.

"How did you—"

"When you wouldn't _tell _me anything, I went searching through your desk," she said impatiently. "Who is he? Is he connected to the kidnapping?"

"I'm not altogether certain who he is," Thomas said.

Gloria raised her eyebrows. Thomas hastened to explain what ended up being a rather complicated story. Apparently his interactions with Karl had started some months earlier, when a mysterious note from the man had been delivered to him in the middle of a stack of other important letters that had been sorted from the general mail. When he'd asked his manservant where the letter had come from, the man had sworn that he'd never seen it in his life.

The first letter was the longest; Thomas produced it from his pocket.

_King Thomas,_

_There is really nothing I can do to keep this letter from sounding like the product of an anarchist plot or the ravings of a madman. Since I know that it would be a useless effort, I'm not really going to try. I just hope that you can fill in the blanks of what I can't say and understand that I am trying to help, and not harm, your kingdom. And family._

_Your daughter is in serious danger. I can't explain to you how or why directly, except that she __must_ _be kept out of contact with Prince Cameron of Grendath as much as is possible. I understand that they're mooning at each other, but I can't stress the importance of this. Their relationship is where the true danger lies, although the lovestruck boy has no idea._

_There is a prophesy that has been mostly hidden from non-magic folk that you should probably look into, pulling your kingly strings and such. It includes an ancestor of yours. This particular prophesy has caught the eye of _[ink splotch, scribble] _some people who might wish to take advantage of the unwitting recipients. I might also point out that the recipients would probably not be seen again in such an instance._

_I apologize for the roundabout language, but my hands are tied._

_-Karl_

Thomas then explained that he spent the next month trying to discover the elusive prophesy Karl had mentioned, driven by the man's tone to test his story as much as he could. He finally found a wizard who was willing to tell him the basic story of Shayna's Promise, though with much reservation.

Thomas was familiar with the fairy-story of Shayna freeing the fiari, but the wizard continued past the end of the story and added that Shayna was then promised four wishes for her heroic acts. She denied the wishes, claiming that she was content, so the fairies promised that two of her descendants would fall in love and each be granted four wishes.

The wizard explained that it was generally assumed that these descendants would be 100th generation, because fairies usually cast their spells in hundreds. He added that "falling in love" was probably also categorized as kissing, as fairies have little concept of real love.

Thomas then spent days poring over genealogies and discovered, as he had suspected, that Nre and Cameron were both 100th generation descendants of Shayna.

"By that time, more than two months had passed from the first letter," Thomas said. "I soon got another letter from Karl."

He produced the second letter.

_I see that you aren't keeping Nre and Cameron from talking. Thomas, listen to me. If you are still suspicious of my motives or knowledge, send me any questions you have in a letter to the Oblique in Fairmont, care of Benjamin Rowe. I'll do what I can to answer you. Please be understanding; I'm doing my best to talk with you, but I'm in a dangerous position._

_-Karl_

"We sent a few more letters back and forth, and I gathered that he was probably in the inner circle of a wizard who wanted to exploit the wishes for some dangerous purpose. That's when I set up Nre and Carvin's marriage and cut off Nre and Cameron's letters. I also asked Delmun to keep Cameron at the castle, but…"

He waved his hand.

"So," Gloria said, trying to wrap her mind around the huge amount of information he'd just given her. "Karl, whoever he is, has some sort of inlet to this dangerous wizard, and he's trying to warn you of the man's plans without actually saying anything?"

"That's what it looks like," Thomas said. "And I've already tried looking up anyone named Karl who is connected to wizards, but there are just too many Karls to be sure one way or the other."

"I know," Gloria said. "I tried that, too. It would be easier to find the wizard."

"I checked all the wizards in Berensia, Grendath, and even Molln," Thomas sighed, "but all of them are under enough supervision that they couldn't be plotting something this big without anyone noticing. Whoever it is is hiding somewhere, and when wizards don't want to be found… they generally aren't. You know that as well as I."

Gloria pressed on.

"Maybe we need to expand our search. Liot, Seranjado, and Werinith aren't outside the realm of possibility, especially for a wizard. He could be anywhere."

With that grim realization, they both sank in their chairs. The impossible thought of searching the whole continent for a wizard who did not want to be found was simply overwhelming — especially when the clock was possibly ticking on their daughter's life.

"I'll send letters to the royalty in all Ladyra," Thomas said. "We are on good terms with most of them; I am sure they would respond to such a plea."

Gloria was listening to him, but she couldn't help but remember the words Karl had written. _The recipients would probably not be seen again. _Tears pricked at her eyes again; what if they were already too late?

"Gloria?"

She didn't lift her head. Thomas hesitated, reached for her hand, then drew back. Gloria drew a slow breath, and Thomas mustered the courage to take her hand. His hand was cool and dry; hers was sweaty where she had been clenching it into a fist.

"We're not going to give up, Lori," he said. "I promise."

Gloria couldn't help it; all the emotional strain of the past few days had pushed her past her limits of fortitude. She began to weep. Not just a few tears, not even a stifled sob — she began to cry in earnest, her breath heaving and her tears splashing onto the finish of the desk.

Before she knew it, there was something warm wrapped around her. Thomas had walked around the desk, and he had his arm around her now, the other still holding her hand. She turned her head and blindly buried her face in his chest, crying more than she had in her recent memory. He let go of her hand and began stroking her hair, a little clumsily at first — but slowly, his fingers remembered their patterns.

Gloria let him comfort her, and, for the first time in years, her husband was warm.

* * *

Nre groaned and rolled over; the ground was not a comfortable place to sleep, but she didn't have much of a choice. Sandra had one extra bed, and it wouldn't make much sense for the servant to sleep on it. She heard Cameron move on the bed above her and stifled a yawn, peeling her eyes open.

He was looking at her.

She jumped, then yawned.

"By the crown, Cameron," she muttered. "Warn a body."

"Sorry. I was just thinking about Sarah."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Did you think of anything we could do?"

Cameron looked out the window and opened his mouth partially, then ran his tongue along his bottom lip; he was nervous.

"What is it?" she nudged.

"We could… see if the man of the house would let us stay there, in exchange for a job. Didn't Reese say that house belonged to the potter?"

"Hm," Nre said, unsure.

She had the sickening feeling that she wouldn't be able to masquerade as a boy forever, and she didn't particularly relish living with a larger group of people. On the other hand, having guests in the house might make life better for Sarah.

Cameron looked at her, following her thought train by the expressions on her face.

"I know it's a bit risky with you trying to be a boy," he said, "but we might at least be able to make life better for her in the short term."

Nre nodded.

"Alright. Well, it never hurts to ask, I suppose. You don't think Sandra would mind, do you?"

Cameron shook his head.

"She's welcoming enough, but I get the feeling that she doesn't particularly like having us here. We draw attention."

Nre reflected on Sandra's frequent glances at the door and slight jumpiness when anyone actually knocked.

"You're right. I guess it's worth a try, then."

* * *

This answer took longer in coming, but Carvin eventually looked up in triumph.

"A voice!"

The fairy smiled broadly.

"Good. And you wish the third?"

"Yes."

"_Wherever she goes, something is left,_

_Common, yet precious; she is often bereft,_

_A new one she gains with every home,_

_Finding and losing them as she roams."_

What did she lose?"

* * *

**So, what do you think of the Thomas/Gloria development? And Cam and Nre? Any guesses on this riddle? Spot any typos?**

Mazzie**: Hm, I revoke my sympathy, then. That sounds terribly aggravating. -face- Haha, you don't remember Sarah and Rose from Nasap? Wow, you really don't remember anything, do you? It's fine, though. I'll save you the temptation of rereading by telling you that a lot of their stuff was directly copied and pasted. In light of Thomas and Gloria "BREAKING YOUR HEART" last chapter, what did you think of them this chapter? Your explanation for Reese's father is quite logical and altogether probable. Do you want a spoiler? Just a tiny one? -whisper- There is a vampirate in this story. And, your riddle guess was excellent, but not quite on the mark. -chuckle-**

**Reviewers can have some of my delicious Swiss Treat!**


	15. In Which Cameron and Nre Do Not Fit In

**23 . 1 . 11**

**Happy almost-birthday to me! If you're feeling generous, I'd love to have a review as a present. -grin- **

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* * *

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Taylor and Nathaniel became the center of town gossip almost as soon as they arrived. Many a village woman had batted her eyelashes in Nathaniel's direction, but he just smiled politely and walked on. Many of the younger girls — servant and free alike — had tried to coax Taylor into conversation, but to no avail. He just kept his eyes on the ground and gave them monosyllabic answers.

While such behavior would ordinarily estrange the pair from the general public, Nathaniel's exquisite manners and chivalry made him a tempting prize to vie for, despite his apparent lack of interest in the women who were making no secret of their opinions of him. And the mystery brought about by Taylor's reluctance to talk made him irresistible to the younger girls.

"Did you know that clout, Matlin, knocked me over today in the market?" exclaimed a slender maid — Justine — to her comrades, fingering a pretty ribbon as she spoke.

The door to the general store opened and closed behind the group as someone else entered the shop.

"No, but I wouldn't doubt it. That boy's got nothing in his head but sawdust from his father's shop," replied a middle-aged woman with bright blue eyes.

"I agree with Salali," said another younger woman, adjusting a basket on her arm and tweaking her hat. "He's a dolt."

"Well," Justine continued, still examining the ribbon and counting money in her head. She paused a moment: _too much. _Then, she kept speaking, eyes narrowing at the memory. "my fruit spilled all about the pathway, and he just kept walking!"

Salali rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed. That boy was never going to convince any woman to marry him with the sense of a rock and the manners of a desert lizard. The younger woman was outraged.

"No! Matlin did? I know he's a dolt, but..."

"Oh please, Leane," chided Traci, walking up to the trio. "Matlin is such a clumsy, inconsiderate boy. What did your husband say about the fruit, Justy?"

"Wait, wait! You haven't heard the best part yet!"

Justine turned to them, ribbon forgotten, with a sparkling smile. There was a blush on her cheeks, but the other women were prudent enough not to mention it.

"Nathaniel helped me. He, with his slave, gathered all the fruit before it was trampled!"

"He's so nice," Delilah sighed, poking her head around the ribbon rack. She had been eavesdropping from the other side.

"And handsome," Traci supplied with a devilish wink in Delilah's direction.

The girl blushed hotly and withdrew her head from the conversation, causing Salali to chuckle quietly to herself before she commented as well.

"Girls, he is handsome, yes, and courteous, but he doesn't care for your affections. Leave the poor lad alone, would you?" she entreated.

A few secretive glances passed among them before they all surreptitiously crossed their fingers and agreed.

"That boy, though, he's odd," said Leane quickly, before Salali could question their honesty. She could see the woman's forehead wrinkling, and she didn't want her badgering them about Nathaniel.

"He doesn't hold himself like a boy," Traci said, nodding her head gratefully at Leane; she knew a good distraction when she saw one.

"You're right, I've noticed that myself. He does have a rather feminine look about him," Justine agreed.

"Poor lad," Leane said, "little wonder he's shy; he's most likely been teased mercilessly about his looks by the boys wherever he's from."

"Our girls don't seem to mind," Salali smiled, "they're all after him! He can't go anyplace without the sound of furtive giggling trailing behind him! Much to the poor lad's embarrassment, I'm sure."

* * *

Atticus looked up from the pot he was molding as the door to his little shop opened with a groan. A tall redhead, followed by a petite boy slave, walked in.

"Hello, strangers," Atticus called, adding a few ridges to the pot.

"Hello," the redhead replied with a smile, making his way to the back, where Atticus was.

Atticus finished the pot and wiped the excess clay on his apron before offering his hand to the lad.

"Is there anything I can get for you..." Atticus asked, shaking his hand.

"Nathaniel," the redhead finished. "Yes, I was hoping I could request an apprenticeship with you. I heard you might be looking for some help, and I am planning to stay here for some time."

"I am Atticus, m'boy. An apprentice would be very useful. I'm backed up on my orders, since I'm the only potter in this part of the country. My son is in the army, you see. He only comes to visit every once in a long while, and he won't be taking the business from me. What makes you interested in pottery?"

"I've always liked pottery," the lad said enthusiastically, "and it's a very practical trade. People always need pots and plates and the like."

"Right you are. Now, where do you come from? And what brings you here?"

"Far away."

Atticus raised his eyebrows.

"I'm trying to leave my past behind me, Mr. Atticus, if you don't mind."

The redhead's eyes were sharp, serious; they brooked no argument. Atticus was a little surprised at the intensity there — the boy was barely a man, but he had a look that inspired respect. Nevertheless, though he was a little curious as to what this boy could have done to want to leave his life behind, Atticus agreed and asked no more questions. He reflected that he might not _want _to know.

"If you are to be my apprentice, I shall have to pay you somehow," Atticus said. "I don't have much money, though. Only the pottery, and my slaves. And I don't really have any to spare — they care for the house and the gardens."

Nathaniel shook his head firmly.

"I don't need any slaves. All I ask is a place to stay and some food."

Atticus grinned.

"We have a deal, m'boy."

* * *

Sarah chopped the salad for dinner, ignoring the pain in her arm and breathing in the steady hum of the kitchen noises around her. The fire in the oven crackled, the water hissed on the stove, ready to steam the carrots, and Mari's knife minced and crushed the herbs for the chicken expertly. The slaves weren't really talking to her today, and the Master didn't even look at her when he let her in the door earlier that morning. She wordlessly took to her tasks as usual, keeping her head low and trying to escape notice.

She looked up from the salad when the kitchen door opened. Thankully, it was Benji, not the Master coming to check on dinner's progress.

"The Master is home, and he brought a guest!" Benj said quickly. His eyes were bright; guests were a rarity. "Be sure there is enough food for the Master and another man. The guest brought a slave, too."

Mari nodded and Benji left. The woman turned to Sarah, now flustered.

"Sarah, go get another head of lettuce from the garden, and don't dally with the salad! We'll need to work quickly to get dinner ready on time."

"Yes ma'am," Sarah said quickly, running to the garden for the lettuce.

* * *

Mari and Sarah managed to serve dinner on time, despite the last-minute guest. Sarah was almost limp with relief. She avoided the Master, staying in the kitchen and handing plates to Benji to deliver to the table instead of her.

The desperately eavesdropping slaves were rewarded by learning that this guest — to be apprenticing at the Master's pottery shop —would be staying in the house. Sarah heard this news in fragments as Benji and Loura whispered among themselves, picking up the dishes to take out the salad.

Sarah craned her neck to see out the kitchen door as it swung open, hoping to see the mysterious man's face, and was taken aback when she glimpsed Nathaniel. Quickly looking away, she continued fanning the peach pie to cool it before dessert was served, but a confused sort of excitement bubbled up unbidden. _What's he doing here?_

Later that evening, Sarah whispered the information to Rose as they slid under their blankets. Rose hadn't heard, because she'd been sent to work with the stablehands since the tomato incident.

"Oh, really?" Rose said, wincing as she turned a little too far and stretched the scabbing wounds on her back.

"Maybe he won't have so many fits of anger now that he has the company of others to amuse him," Loura remarked grimly, coming into the room.

"Maybe," Rose said quietly.

* * *

Dinner at Atticus' house was a pleasant affair, all things considering. Nre stood back against the wall, imitating the other slaves in the room who weren't serving anything. Nre could tell that the slaves were sneaking looks at Cameron all through dinner, and she could have sworn she saw Sarah's face in the kitchen for half a second.

After dinner was over, a timid young man with a head of straight brown hair led Cameron and Nre down a hallway in the upper level of the house; he was showing them to their room.

"You may stay here, milord," the boy murmured, opening the door and gesturing inside.

Cameron looked inside the room, noting a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a chest of drawers before turning back to the boy.

"Thank you — what is your name?" he asked.

"Benji, milord," the boy said, blinking.

"Thank you, Benji."

There was a short silence before Benji spoke again.

"Your slave can stay in the men's quarters with us, if you like."

"No," Nathaniel said quickly, "He will sleep on the floor of my room. I like to have him close by."

Benji nodded.

"Yes, milord. Someone will bring you water to bathe in shortly, and a basin of water to wash your face will be brought in the morning. When you are done with your slave, you can send him to the kitchen for some dinner."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Benji."

"Goodnight, milord."

Benji left then, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

The next day, Cameron started his work at the pottery, learning much more than he ever thought was involved in the trade. He had originally thought that pottery would be a breeze, but after several attempts ending in shapeless mush, he was forced to reconsider his preconceptions. He was determined to succeed, however, so he worked hard, and Atticus praised him for his efforts.

During the course of the day, Cameron was introduced to the owners of all the buildings Reese had pointed out to him a few days ago. Thadius, the butcher; Sammel, the hatter; (hats were the fashion in this country, much to Cameron's amusement) Dyllin, the baker and Jesse, the Import Manager — he inspected any imported goods before they were unloaded from the wagon to make sure they were in good condition.

This town, though small, was well organized and everybody was relatively happy, something that Cameron and Nre had trouble understanding with the evident lack of resources and common Vest sweeps. (The Vests were what the townspeople called the local authorities. While they didn't have any Vests that lived in town, they would ride through almost every day at different hours and scowl at everyone, looking for an excuse to throw someone in the run-down jail for the night.)

As in any small town, everybody was intimately familiar with everybody, so a new person in town became the foremost topic of gossip. Nathaniel was constantly being scrutinized. Taylor, who always was three steps behind Nathaniel, and looking at the ground, was ill spoken of.

Why did he not raise his head and talk to other slaves? Everything from a fairy's curse to a crooked back was speculated over, but the more they watched, the less they knew. Some of the more daring girl slaves blushingly tried to start a conversation with the boy, but abrupt answers to questions and lack of eye contact caused them to fall away, slightly hurt.

For Nre's part, she was eternally grateful that she was what Lois liked to call a "late bloomer," so it was much easier to blend in as a boy than it could have been, as long as she kept her mouth shut. She tried to let the girls down as easily as she could, but she fumbled through every conversation with them. It was nearly impossible to say anything that didn't encourage them instead of making them go away. The girls were impossible to deal with, and Nre got a glimpse of what boys had to deal with their whole lives.

She didn't envy them.

When Cameron and Atticus came home from the shop one evening, Atticus excused himself to take a bath, leaving Cameron to amuse himself. After he was sure the man was out of hearing, he sent Nre to fetch Sarah. They both came back soon, the latter bowing deeply. Cameron was still adjusting to the fact that the women slaves sometimes wore pants and bowed, same as the men slaves.

"Yes, my lord?" she said respectfully.

"Your arm, how is it healing?" Cameron said, cutting directly to his question.

He wasn't sure how long Atticus would be indisposed, and he didn't want to risk getting on the man's bad side by messing around with the slaves. Sarah looked taken aback for a moment before answering hesitantly.

"My—my arm is well, my lord."

Cameron sensed there was more that the girl didn't want to say.

"But…?" he prompted gently.

"But my friend was beaten as well," Sarah said slowly, tucking her straight hair behind her ear. "And I think her leg might be infected."

Her eyes were fixed on the ground, and she fidgeted slightly.

"Did you tell anyone?" Cameron asked.

"Yes, my lord. They all said she deserved it, and that it will heal eventually. They don't pay me much mind anyway, ever since I stepped up."

Cameron frowned angrily, and Nre made a small noise. Remembering his knowledge of healing that he had been given in case of hunting accidents, Cameron went on.

"Can I see it? If I take a look, I might know how to help."

Sarah faltered, like she wasn't sure if she should accept his help or not, then nodded.

"She's in the barn, sir. Follow me, if you please."

She led Cameron, with Nre following closely behind, out to the barn where Rose was brushing a pretty bay horse.

"Rose, Nathaniel wants to see your leg," Sarah said, approaching her friend.

Rose put the brush on the shelf and turned around, eyes filled with cautious fear. Nre recognized the girl that Reese had smiled at on that first day, the one that looked like she was bearing the weight of the world.

"Why?" Rose said, and her voice was tough. Her hands gripped the edge of the shelf.

"He thinks he can help," Sarah said, almost pleading with her.

Rose stepped back a little, shaking her head.

"It's fine. It will heal. I don't need his help," she said firmly, glancing at Cameron, then down again quickly before she could quite meet his eyes.

"Yes you do, Rose," Sarah sighed, pushing her dark hair behind her ear.

She walked up to the frightened girl and they conversed in hushed tones for a minute. The waiting pair only heard snippets of the talk.

"—men—same—"

"—not—"

"—sure?"

Rose then turned to Nathaniel and looked at him. Her eyes reminded him of a rabbit who had been caught by a vindictive boy: scared, cornered, and hopeless. She couldn't even look him in the eye, staring at his shoulder. She looked down, then took a deep breath, gathering her skirt and pulling it up to reveal jagged, bloody lines, puffy and yellowish from mid-calf to mid-thigh. Cameron emitted what sounded like a low growl, reaching out for her leg. Nre moaned; it was definitely infected.

Rose backed away in fright, running into Sarah.

"No, it's alright. Sorry," Cameron said hastily. "I just can't believe Atticus would _do_ something like this to a living being..."

He stepped toward her again and carefully examined the cuts, remembering his lessons, thankfully, and deciding what he needed to dress the wounds and heal the infection. Then, he remembered that every herb he knew about was native to western Ladyra — he didn't know what was common here. He turned to Sarah.

"Do you have any Lidt here?"

Sarah gave him a blank look.

"It's a short, leafy plant. Almost blue-ish in color. It's mostly seen as a weed."

"Oh, um, I think so," Sarah said hesitantly. "We pull it out of the garden every once in a while."

"And what about Dollif?"

"At the apothecary," she replied swiftly.

"Excellent," he said, rummaging in his pocket. "Go get a few leaves of Lidt, and a small jar of Dollif. If you smash the Lidt and mix it with the Dollif, then spread the paste on her leg, it should get rid of the infection."

He pulled a few coins out of his pocket and dropped them into her hands.

"And take Taylor with you. He'll know if it's Lidt."

Nre nodded curtly at Cameron. She knew Lidt at least; it was a pestilence in the iris fields.

Sarah murmured her thanks and set off for town, closely followed by Nre. Rose dropped her skirt quickly and picked up the brush again, running it along the horse's back. Her hand trembled. Cameron wondered, anger rising inside of him at the injustice, what had happened to the girl in her short life to make her look so hopeless.

* * *

Sarah looked sideways at Taylor. He was in his usual position: looking at the ground.

"So, Taylor," Sarah said awkwardly, "where did you come from?"

"Far," he muttered, trying to hide his higher voice, it seemed.

_Poor lad,_ Sarah though sympathetically. _Maybe that's why he's so quiet._

"Why did you two come here?"

She didn't expect much, but she thought it was worth a try. She received exactly what she thought she would: Taylor shrugged. After a few more attempts at conversation, Sarah gave up. He was apparently just hopelessly shy, though she couldn't forget how kind he had been the first night, wrapping her wound carefully and tightly. They walked the rest of the way to and from the apothecary in silence, their steps falling in sync.

* * *

Bright sunlight filtered through the hastily-constructed curtain of Cameron's room, falling on Nre, who was bent over a basin wringing out her dripping hair. She squeezed as much of the water out of her regretfully short hair as she could, then took the rather small, thin, towel to it. Marveling at the short time it took to dry, she rubbed her hair with the towel vigorously and then let it settle haphazardly while she pulled on the rest of her clothes.

Afterwards, she tried to smooth the tangled mess of half-dried hair and wished for her hairbrush with a sigh. Even though her hair was shorter, it was fine and so tended to dry in a bit of a mess that she couldn't really do much about. Peering at her reflection in the small mirror, she fluffed her hair dispiritedly, then gave up and joined Cameron in the hall. As soon as he saw the door open, he called for Benji to come and take the water away.

Nre had a fleeting, yet strong, desire to kiss him again, but settled for quickly squeezing his hand. He smiled and squeezed her hand, then let go. It was fortunate for Nre's well being that she decided not to do that, as Benji turned the corner at that exact moment.

"Ready?" Cameron asked her.

Nre nodded and they left Benji to his task, descending the stairs and leaving through the front door after calling goodbye to Atticus. When Cameron had mentioned going to town earlier, Atticus had offered him a horse. He politely refused the offer, claiming that he preferred to walk.

He did not regret this decision when he comfortably took Nre's hand for the short period of time that they were out of sight of the house and the town. He smiled at the thrilling feeling of having her at his side, then turned to look at her. He only had a few minutes to talk with her unobserved in a day, and he wanted to make the most of them.

"Are you doing any better?" he asked her, remembering a conversation they had had the day before, which had ended in some frustration.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," she sighed. "I'm mostly just… lonely. I know you're _here, _but…"

She trailed off apologetically, and Cameron nodded, squeezing her hand.

"I know what you mean."

Encouraged, Nre continued.

"I'm just so scared I'm going to mess this up! I don't know how to be a slave, and I don't how to be a boy. And, I can't talk to anyone about any of it. Not the slaves, because I'll give myself away, and barely you, because that would be suspicious."

"Ah, I'm sorry," Cameron said, clenching his other fist at his side.

It frustrated him to hear that Nre was struggling — that she was hurting in a way that he couldn't fix. He felt helpless, and he didn't like it.

"I know," she said softly, pausing, then continuing. "I just—miss the palace, I guess. I miss my fancy dresses, and the beautiful gardens. Hang it all, I miss my etiquette teacher! I'm sick of eating leftover scraps and being looked at with brazen scrutiny." She stopped, but before Cameron could say anything, she continued. "_Also, _I'm tired of ignoring whispering girls — they're really irritating — and I just miss home. I want to go home."

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she dashed it away quickly.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, the helplessness doubling.

He looked around and saw no one, so he pulled her into a swift hug. His arms cradled her carefully and she sagged into him, letting herself relax for just a moment. For that instant, she felt like everything would be okay. But then they heard a voice, and Cameron had to let go. He quickly kissed her cheek.

"I love you, Nre," he whispered. "We're going to get through this."

She nodded. She couldn't say anything else.

* * *

Carvin frowned, mulling the words over in his mind again.

"Would you like to hear it again?" the fairy asked.

"Yes, please."

The fairy repeated the riddle and watched his face as it shifted into a thoughtful position. _Quite handsome, for a human,_ she mused.

"I have it!" Carvin said suddenly. "It's her name. Isn't it?"

"You are correct, my lord. Would you like the final riddle?"

"Yes," Carvin said, relieved that he was almost done — almost on his way to Nre.

"_Found 'mid the greeting, double the cheer,_

_A start of surprise when spiders are near,_

_The start of a valley, but not of a hill,_

_The tail of a snake and the head of an eel._

What is it?"

"What is it_?_" Carvin said, slightly bewildered.

"Yes."

Carvin didn't say anything, but the pinched look on his face betrayed his thoughts. He couldn't be stumped on the last riddle. He couldn't.

* * *

**This chapter moved a bit fast, but there was a lot to cover. What do you think about Cam and Nre? Any guesses for the riddle? Hint: Think of the answer as a word.**

EVA**: 13: Well, since I actually have just recently finished writing this story, updates are going to be about every 6/7 days. So, stay tuned! Haha, oh Eva! I would love that as well. -wistful- Thanks for catching those typos! I'll fix them and give you a shout-out. I'm glad you liked my description, and I'm very pleased that Gloria is coming out to your liking. She's quite the character, I think. Heh, I have that feeling often — of saying something and then wondering if the other person realizes what a huge thing it was to say. But, c'est la vie. Ah, Sarah. She's lovely. And I'm glad you're enjoying Cam and Nre, and the little girl. 14: What an interesting book that must have been! I might look it over, myself. And yes, I do wish Sarah had done something sooner, but she had a lot at stake. It makes sense. And, better late than never! Thomas has come through, indeed. Notice the chapter title for 14. -chuckle- And yes, I thought revelaing a few things earlier would be MUCH better than info-dumping at the end. x.x Karl … is a bit of a different person in this story, because he has so much personally at stake. And he can't say everything he wants to say. But, I think you'll see a bit more of the Karl you know and love come in more towards the end. -smile- Hm, you raise a good point about Cam and the bed. I might just change that. Oh, Nre was just referring to the fact that she woke up with Cameron staring at her, which was rather… **_**creepy. **_**Heh. Reese and Sandra didn't play a big part in the original, no. Good guess!**

Mazzie**: With alarming frequency in this story, or alarming frequency in real life? -nervous face- For real — Gloria and Thomas are depressing all the time. I do not like it. :| Good guess!**

**Reviewers can have a slice of cake! Chocolate, with chocolate icing. Yumm.**


	16. In Which Something Bad Almost Happens

**29 . 1 . 11**

**Sitting in the same room as a slumbering baby and mother is a pretty contented place to be.**

**That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

Carvin sat for a long time, mulling over possibilities and discarding them one by one. As he pondered, the fairy gazed steadily at his face, musing to herself.

_He's got a rather wholesome look about him. Then again, most humans do, as they can't change their appearance. He seems like a surprisingly courageous boy, though naïve. Perfect._

"It's love!" Carvin said suddenly, all his thoughts falling into place suddenly. "It must be! 'Hello' is a greeting, with _double _L's in the middle. 'Oh!' is a start of surprise. V is the first letter of 'valley,' but not 'hill,' and E is the last letter of 'snake' and the first letter of 'eel.'"

"Once again, you prove yourself clever," the fairy said with a smile. "Now do you understand who Shayna is?"

It took Carvin a moment to remember that all these riddles were about someone named Shayna. It felt like days, years had passed since he had walked into the woods, though he knew it had only been an hour at most. And now that he'd solved the riddle, his mind was relaxing, and it was harder to think.

"I—uh. A mute, nameless beauty who fell in love?" Carvin offered, piecing the riddles' answers together disjointedly.

"Yes. Her tale is long and painful, and only the fairies know its entirety. She began the race of the free fairies, and is so held in high regard. But, to the riddles. You have a skill with them. Love indeed..."

Here her face became thoughtful and she tapped a slender finger to her perfect lips, as if musing something. Carvin stared at them for a moment, then shook himself mentally. His mind was foggy, like he hadn't slept in too long.

She began to pace. Her feet crossed the forest floor, and her dress dragged behind her, whispering over the leaves. The movement wafted a faint smell of pine toward Carvin and dizzied him further.

"Love is a cruel thing," she murmured, almost to herself, but Carvin heard. It was obvious that she meant for him to — her voice was perfectly pitched so the soft tones reached his ears. "It ties together helpless souls and kills passion."

Carvin was about to protest, but the fairy cut in smoothly before he could start. He suddenly forgot what he was going to say.

"Passion grows from beauty, yes? Love cares naught for beauty, haphazardly matching the lovely and hideous together! It ties the poor fools together, and the saddest part is..."

Her pacing had brought her within a foot of Carvin. The pine scent was stronger now and Carvin was having a hard time keeping his wits about him. He thought he disagreed with what she was saying, but he couldn't remember why anymore. He couldn't really remember much of anything, come to think of it. There was a reason why he was in the woods, he was sure, but he couldn't think of it.

"...it blinds them. They never realize how trapped they are. Passion, however, opens one's eyes to the beauties of life. Beauties as varied and unique as anyone could ask for."

Now she was in front of him, looking up at him through her thick, dark lashes. The pine smell flooded his thoughts, breaking through Carvin's last attempt to keep it out and taking over his mind. Though he fought it, dully aware of some danger, he couldn't bring himself to fight very hard. And he didn't step away. _She is so beautiful..._

Tilting her flawless face toward his, she snaked her arms about his neck, an enchanting smile adorning her features. Her pale skin reflected the dappled moonlight that came through the trees, and she glowed.

"A beauty, such as me," she offered.

Carvin stared at her mouth, how her full lips shaped every word like they were tasting each syllable. She saw this and smiled, rubbing the back of his neck lightly with her fingers and sending a shiver down his spine.

"Breathtaking," she whispered, pulling him closer so subtly that he almost didn't notice.

Her lips pressed together, then parted slightly, reaching for his—

"No!" he cried, but his voice was strangled and unconvincing.

He jerked away but was unable to free himself from her grasp. It was a weak attempt, and they both knew it. Instead of breaking her hold, her hands merely fell until they were around his waist. A ring of refreshing coolness. _No, stop._ He forced himself to stop thinking about her, to break through the fog. He kept his arms straight at his sides, refusing to touch her.

She laughed mockingly. The fog was too thick.

"Are you afraid, my lord?"

The voice of his nanny rose to the surface of his tortured mind. "_A fairy's kiss enslaves a man forever!"_

"No—yes!"

Her laugh was softer now, and she looked at him, raising herself on tiptoe until she was only a few inches away. Her eyes were fiercely green; they made the world swim in front of him.

"Indecisive? I can help you know your mind. Look at what is in front of you."

Her pine scented breath wiped all thoughts from his mind except one: the beautiful woman and how close those perfect lips were to his own. What fool wouldn't take advantage of the situation? Especially when the woman was so willing?

He struggled still, knowing there was some reason, something, that was telling him not to. What had he just remembered minutes ago? It was gone now. But the struggle couldn't last long against her charms. He was, after all, just a human._ Just one... _

His hand seemed to move of its own accord, resting on her waist. His other hand buried itself in her hair, soft and pungent. Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning forward, his fingers hopelessly tangled in her hair and his mind hopelessly lost in a forest of pine. Her lips curved up in a smile.

An instant before their lips met, Carvin had a vivid flashback to Nre's smile, her laugh.

"No! No! A thousand times, no!" he yelled, shoving her away and stumbling backward.

His first breath of fresh air brought with it his reasoning and awareness. Cold sweat soaked his shirt and his breath was ragged with fear. He couldn't believe how close he had come to selling his soul for a kiss.

"Send me to the East Wood as you promised!" he shouted, and his voice was strong.

"Fine, but you will regret this," the fairy said, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.

He glared at her with red-rimmed eyes.

"Keep your word, fairy," he said, voice dangerously low.

"Very well," she said, and she suddenly smiled.

Carvin didn't like the way she looked at him; like he was a toy that had annoyed its owner and was about to be thrown away. But before he could reconsider, she chanted something under her breath and he disappeared.

She waited until he was definitely gone, then murmured something else; there was a great whooshing around her, and she changed back to her original form.

_There, _she thought._ The time slowing spell is gone, now. It will have been... three or four days, I should suspect. Perfect. He won't last long. A life of slavery would have been better than slow starvation. But, ah well._

She flitted off in the direction of home, the young boy already far from her mind.

* * *

Nre woke up and groaned, like she did every morning. The floor was incredibly hard. Almost a week of sleeping on it had done nothing to make it more comfortable; she just had backaches to deal with. She rolled over and pulled herself up, trying to stretch the aches that had settled there in the night. She tiptoed over to the bed and checked that Cameron was still asleep, head resting on the pillow and brow free of wrinkles. She smiled and looked over her shoulder to be sure no one was looking before quickly kissing him on the cheek.

He murmured something, and a sleepy sort of smile appeared on his face as he blinked his eyes open.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," she replied, thumbing his cheek.

"Is it time to get up?" he asked groggily, starting to sit up.

"No, not yet. I'm going to go sit on the porch; you go back to sleep."

He nodded, still not quite awake, and rolled over. His breath evened out again within moments. Nre shook her head. He slept like a rock, and she wasn't sure how he did it.

She walked over to the dresser and picked up the change of clothes they had purchased for her yesterday. Looking over her shoulder first to be sure Cameron was asleep, she pulled off the clothes she had been wearing for days and pulled on the new ones with relief. Although the fabric was rough and not very comfortable, it was at least _clean_. And since she had taken a bath the day before, she felt cleaner than she had since she left the palace.

She folded her dirty clothes awkwardly, relying on her memories of watching Lois, and set them on the dresser before checking on Cameron once more. Satisfied that he was still asleep, she crept from the room, reveling in the silence of the pre-dawn hours.

That was one advantage to sleeping on the floor, she had decided — she could never sleep as late as the others. She got a half hour or so to herself before the other slaves woke and began their various chores. She had a half hour to be Nre, the scared, homesick princess — instead of Taylor, the reticent, mysterious slave.

She walked quietly through the silent house and out the back door, stiffening at the chill. She hadn't ceased to marvel at how cold the nights and early mornings were here, though the days were always hot and sticky.

The sky was a light grey, and she could barely make out the hills to the right and the chicken coop to the left. Settling down on the cold ground, she lapsed into thought. And, as they always did when left unattended, her thoughts turned to Berensia, and to her home.

_What would they be doing around this time at the palace? The only one up would be the cook, I'd think. Bustling around and mixing the dough for the fresh bread. Next up will be the gardener; he likes to prune the bushes at sunrise. Then... The waiting servants; they'll have to warm the water and set out clothes before mother and father wake up._

"A carrot for your thoughts, Taylor?"

The voice interrupted Nre's thoughts and she jumped, turning around quickly. Sarah stood behind her, smiling a little and offering a dirty carrot.

"'Fraid it hasn't been washed yet, but..."

Nre almost smiled, then remembered that she was Taylor and merely shrugged, looking indifferent.

"It's a pretty morning, don't you think?" Sarah tried again, walking a little closer.

It certainly was — the sun had risen and brought with it an astounding variety of colors from orange to purple. Again, Nre shrugged, looking past Sarah in an attempt to stop conversation.

The attempt succeeded, and Sarah sighed, heading back into the house to wash the vegetables. Nre sighed too, lonely — she wanted to talk with Sarah, get to know her, but she just couldn't do that. Nre watched the sunrise for a few minutes longer before she was interrupted once more.

"Hello, Taylor!"

Benji walked up beside him, eyes focused on the sunrise as well. He didn't seem bothered that Nre didn't respond to his greeting.

"Wow, it's a nice one today. We don't usually get all the purple."

Nre felt obligated to say something, so she gave him a noncommittal grunt.

"Anyway," Benji said, turning to look at her at last. "I need some help in the stables. Rose is going to be there, but she has trouble picking Leslie's hooves, and everyone else has been called to help elsewhere today. Could you help me?"

"Mmhmm."

"Nathaniel wouldn't mind?"

"Hm-mm."

"Great! Okay, meet me there in a half hour, then."

"Mmhmm."

Benji left, and Nre turned back to the sun wearily. Her alone time was almost over for the day, it seemed. She relished another twenty minutes, wishing again that she could even talk to these people. But, once she started talking, it would be all to easy to realize she wasn't who she said she was. It was just safer to keep her head down and her mouth shut.

She got off the ground and dusted herself off, then walked to the stables.

* * *

"A map of _what?_" the flabbergasted cartographer asked, raising and lowering his spectacles several times.

This was his nervous habit that the locals understood, but Cameron and Nre — who had come to the cartographer to get a better idea of where they were in Ladyra — were caught off guard by this strange action. Cameron thought for a moment the glasses were going to hit him in the face, but he drew his mind back to the matter at hand before he got too distracted.

"The country and its surrounding lands, if you please, Master Geretome."

"The whole — by the left, young lad! Whatever do you want with that?" the man asked, putting a few more maps onto the disorganized shelves of the small shop. "Anything you could possibly want is within the east side of the country. Surely, I shall get you a map of that?"

"No, the whole country, Master Geretome."

His voice held an undertone of determination that Geretome instantly recognized.

"Let me see if I have one," he sighed irritably. "Wait here."

He went into a back room, where thumpings and angry mutterings could be heard. Cameron rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and Nre giggled. Cameron flashed her a smile, and then Geretome returned with a huge yellowed scroll.

The cartographer swept a pile of half-inked papers to one side of his desk and unrolled the parchment with a scowl. Cameron looked over it eagerly. His eyes scanned the well drawn map until he saw what he was looking for — the country's name in slanting script across the country itself. Ellespeth.

The name seemed only vaguely familiar. It tugged on forgotten memories, but he couldn't quite grasp them. He checked the bordering countries.

Acine to the north, Grenspaw and Terriot to the west, and Vell to the south. All the names rang a quiet bell deep within his mind, but he couldn't remember why.

"I don't suppose you have a map with any more countries, do you?" Cameron asked, looking up at last.

The cartographer looked as if he was about to explode. He flailed his eyeglasses at a furious pace. Nre had to stifle a laugh.

"_More_ countries? This, m'boy, this — _this_ is the whole known world! You don't expect me to have a pretty little map of _Berensia_ for pity's sake, do you?"

Cameron blinked and Nre started at the familiar name.

"No, of course not," Cameron said, recovering quickly, "but this will not do. I'm sorry, Master Geretome."

The pair quickly left before Geretome could voice any more opinions.

Nre fell into step behind Cameron, as usual, brimming with questions to talk with him about. But, she was distracted by a group of giggling girls and their maids. They were glancing furtively in her direction.

_Lovely. Just what I need, _she thought savagely, completely fed up with all the girls' childish games._ Go flirt with your own stable boy, I'm taken, lasses._

"... just watch," a girl said, flipping her hair confidently over her shoulder.

She was obviously not a slave, but her eyes were trained on Nre. Normally the girls she had to put up with were all slaves, so she could treat them as equals. But if this one had a plan of some sort, Nre wasn't sure what she would be able to do about it.

The girl broke off from the group and started walking toward Nre.

_Uh oh. This doesn't look good. _

Nre quickened her pace until she was only two steps behind Cameron, hoping the girl would take the hint and leave her alone.

* * *

Gloria left the conference room and immediately slumped against the wall, cradling her aching, ink-stained hand against her chest. She could hear Thyatira and Thomas discussing something in soft tones through the door. She had taken a break from letter-writing in order to use the restroom and possibly catch a breath of fresh air, but she found that she was too exhausted to move from the spot.

The bright point of her day had been the scribbled message from Karl, barely legible, that had appeared on Thomas' desk that morning. It contained a scant sentence, reading, _"N and C are safe for now, not found yet." _There was no explanation of where they were, or what he meant by "safe," but it was enough for Thomas and Gloria for the time being.

Her head rocked gently back onto the cool, smooth marble walls of the second floor, and she let her eyes close slightly. The rise and fall of voices floating through the slightly open door was starting to lull her to sleep when the door opened suddenly. She jerked guiltily from her position by the door and her embarrassed eyes met those of the queen of Grendath.

"How long has it been since you slept?" Thyatira asked, taking Gloria's arm in her own and setting a leisurely pace down the hallway.

Gloria stifled a yawn before she answered.

"Probably the same amount of time since you've slept, old friend," she said, sparing the queen a glance.

The queen of Grendath was tall, towering over Gloria and even an inch or so taller than Thomas. The queen's own husband was only taller than her by a scant inch. Her frame was slender but strong, and her auburn hair reached her shoulder blades in soft waves. Her eyes, now searching Gloria's face, were light blue — and they were shadowed in bruised purple, as Gloria suspected hers were as well.

Thyatira was all business today, sparing no time for make-up or hairdressing, so her hair was knotted in a quick braid, and every tiny wrinkle on her pale face was painfully evident. Gloria refused to look in a mirror, since she had also refused any cosmetic attention that morning. She thought she might finally look as old as she felt.

"I must return to Grendath soon," Thyatira said, breaking the silence as they began to descend the stairs.

"I suspected you might have to travel back soon," Gloria said, running her fingers lightly over the wooden handrail.

"I'm glad to have stayed here these weeks and aided you in your correspondence with Ladyra," Thyatira said apologetically, "but my family and country need me home soon. And, I have to say I'll be happy to see them again."

Gloria nodded, biting her lip. She knew Thyatira would have to leave, but she would miss her friend. She didn't often get to see the queen, and though the circumstances were horrific, Thyatira's strength once again inspired a steadfastness in herself that she forgot she had.

"I will miss you, Thyatira," Gloria said, turning to the woman when they reached the bottom of the steps.

"Gloria," the queen said, a half smile adorning her freckled face. The half-light from the shaded window cast half her face into shadow. "I will miss you. But you don't need me."

Thyatira reached out and folded Gloria in a hug that touched the woman to the core.

"Your husband loves you, and we will all get through this."

Gloria nodded, inhaling the smell of mountains.

"I must take my leave of you for the evening," Thyatira added after a moment.

"Goodnight, then," Gloria said, stepping back.

"Goodnight," Thyatira said, smiling at her again, then turning to walk down the hall.

Thomas was partially through a reply to the queen of Werinith's letter when Gloria returned to the room. The spacious table was covered in papers — some letters that they had received, other letters that were partially finished, and still other papers documenting genealogies, wizarding families, and lists of known magic folk that were unfriendly to the kings and queens of Ladyra.

"Did Thyatira go to bed?" Thomas asked, looking up and seeing that Gloria was alone.

Gloria nodded and sat down on Thomas' left.

"I think I will too, soon," she said, unable to keep from yawning this time. "All the words are swirling together now, and my hand is as heavy as lead."

"That's probably a good idea," Thomas said, barely touching Gloria's stained hand with his left. "I'll just finish this letter."

"What did Evangeline have to say again?" Gloria asked, looking over the letter written in the queen's curling script.

"The wizards in their country are fully supportive of the crown and of peace in Ladyra, so she can't imagine that any of them are responsible," Thomas summarized. "I'm requesting that she ask the wizards if they know of any other wizards that might mean harm to the royal families of Braxton or Windham."

"Wonderful," Gloria murmured, eyes starting to close again.

Thomas' face softened as he looked at his wife, and he let his hand close around hers gently.

"I'm almost done," he said, and, true to his word, he finished the letter after another few sentences.

"You done?" Gloria mumbled as he started to get up.

"I am," he replied, helping her to her feet and letting his arm slip around her waist for support as they left the room.

Gloria was asleep on her feet, and Thomas was glad he had a firm hold on her, or she might have collapsed. _She could have gone straight to bed, _Thomas reflected, pulling open the door to the royal bedchamber. _She came back to keep me company. _He smiled at that thought and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed the top of Gloria's head.

She smiled sleepily and leaned against him for a moment, though Thomas wasn't sure if that was intentional, or if she had lost her balance.

"Open your eyes, Gloria," Thomas said quietly, catching her as her foot caught the rug in the middle of their room.

She shook her head and yawned, and Thomas couldn't help a chuckle.

"Fine," he said, and then he bent slightly and hooked his arm under Gloria's knees.

His arm was already behind her, and he lifted her easily. She squeaked a little in surprise, but still didn't open her eyes.

"Mm, much better," she said.

"You vixen," Thomas said, but his voice was subdued.

He carefully pushed the blankets aside as he laid Gloria on the bed and then stopped a moment to look at her. Her golden brown hair was pushed behind her ears and swept aside with a few hastily-placed clips, and her face was clean of any paints or products. The warm light from the lamp on the bedside table competed with the pale glow of the moon, both touching her face in a melding of gold and silver. She was beautiful.

"What?" Gloria said, yawning.

"Nothing," Thomas said quickly, pulling his hand back from her hair, where it had strayed without his knowledge.

"Hm," Gloria said, turning her face and falling back to sleep.

Thomas didn't have the heart to wake her again, though she would certainly be irked when she realized in the morning that he had let her sleep in her dress. He took a last look at her, and then quickly undressed and slipped into his side of the bed. It didn't take long for him to drift off into sleep, though his dreams were troubled as always with images of Nre crying.

* * *

**Comments on Carvin's close call? (Wow, say that ten times fast.) Nre's predicament? Gloria and Thomas FINALLY having a pleasant moment?**

Mazzie**: Ah, Mazzie. My sole reviewer for the chapter once more. I feel like I owe you an awesome present for all these chapters where you've been the only one keeping me afloat. LOL. Anyhow, the riddle was a bit trickier than it was last time, so no worries. If you go back and look at it, though, I hope you can see the connection. I tried to help you out — letters? Four lines, four letters, L-O-V-E. Hah. I didn't even think of that option (letting them kiss) though I don't think the society of a quasi-medieval time would be very accepting of such deviations. O.o As for Sarah not noticing… she has other stuff on her mind, and people don't exactly go around dressed up as the opposite gender that often. Only in books. Haha! It's also a bit of a plot-necessity — I might be stretching the truth a bit.**

**Reviewers can have a scoop of frozen yogurt! Yumm.**


	17. In Which Carvin Is In a Bad Way

**5 . 2 . 11**

**I'm really tired. And I'm currently buried in snow. But, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Carvin appeared in the East Wood as the fairy had promised, but his victory was short-lived. He barely noticed the different surroundings as several sensations bludgeoned his mind at once.

Firstly, he became painfully and desperately aware of his blinding thirst. It felt like every particle in his body was screaming, a cacophony of water-starved voices.

Next, as he began to scan the woods for a stream, or even a puddle, he became acutely aware that he could barely keep his eyes open. Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave, and he was drowning in a tiredness unlike anything he had ever known. The voices screaming at him to find _water _at all costs were suddenly hushed beneath the upswell of tiredness.

And somewhere beneath it all, a roaring ache grumbled and sapped his muscles of all their strength in revenge for its immense hunger.

Carvin's head throbbed, dizzied, and almost blacked out as his body presented him with its angry needs — needs that he couldn't comprehend. It had only been a few hours…

Disoriented, he lifted his eyes to the darkened trees around him and noticed light filtering through the trees far overhead. How could it be light? It had only been evening when he entered the wood.

_Out. I have to get out. _He forced his brain along this path, helpless to satisfy any of the other pleas. He took a few steps forward.

_Sleep, sleep, sleep, _his mind cried, and he stumbled.

_Water, __water__, _his whole body groaned, and he almost fell.

_Sleep, sleep._

_Water, water._

_Sleep._

_Water._

_Sleep. Water._

_Sleep water_

_Sleep water sleep water __sleep__._

He was thinking in blocky mantras, his brain overridden with exhaustion and unquenchable thirst. He'd never been hungry or thirsty for very long before in his life; this was a wholly new situation to him, and the desperation of his position made it even more so.

He stumbled through the woods in a haze of jarring impulses, trying desperately to find a way out and scanning the ground despairingly for water. He wasn't even aware that time was passing, that the light was fading from bright, to dim, then darkness.

And then, he tripped over a root.

As soon as he hit the ground, he knew — even in his beleaguered and confused mind — that he was in trouble. All of a sudden, sleep became the most important thing in the entire world. His body went limp on the hard ground, and he felt he could sleep for years, even with the rocks and roots poking him in the stomach. He had barely caught himself with his hand, scraping it badly on a rock, and he didn't notice the small trail of warm blood that crawled down his hand and dripped off, thick and red. His eyes closed. Every other voice was silenced, and a pure, dreamlike state settled over his mind.

Just before he remained there forever, Carvin found strength he couldn't have imagined he possessed, and he pushed himself from the ground shakily.

His hand left a bloody smudge on a rock.

As soon as he regained his footing, he moved forward. Onward and outward — he hoped — to the outside of the forest. Time and time again he thought he had broken the treeline and was facing a bustling town, but each time he stumbled and opened his eyes, and he realized it was just a dream: a delusion born of sleeplessness and dehydration.

Day was beginning to dawn when the line of trees abruptly ended and he found himself on a dry and dusty plain, with a road just in front of him.

Almost completely delirious now — from the combination of exhaustion, hunger, and thirst — he stopped moving and stared. He blinked several times, but the picture didn't fade. After he was sure it wasn't a vision, he walked doggedly on, seeing the road and aiming for it.

_You can do it, Vin,_ he thought, putting one foot in front of the other. _Just keep going like that. Got to make it to the road._

He hadn't reckoned on rocks.

An ill-placed stone caught his foot and he sprawled onto the ground just before the path. He tried to pick himself up as he had before and move a few inches more, but the strength he had found in the woods was gone. With no civilization in sight, and nothing to hope for but a long, dry road, Carvin couldn't muster the will to push himself from the ground. Utter exhaustion overpowered him and thrust him into unwilling oblivion.

* * *

Karl opened his eyes in the West Wood with a sigh of relief. He loved running around Ladyra as much as the next fiari, but these continental exploits were beginning to drain him of more than just magic. He found himself oddly homesick for this place. He took a deep breath of the woody air and felt more at home than he had for as long as he could remember. He leaned into a solid oak, feeling magic twine into him as the tree murmured its leafy gossip.

_You know that fairy that helped you the other day?_

"Hm, who?" he lazed, yawning as he tried to recall the name of the pretty woman. "Melody? Melanie? Mel-something."

_She was toying around with another hopeful rescuer earlier. Did a fair job, too — time-slowing spell and everything. Poor boy._

The tree didn't sound sympathetic. The trees enjoyed the fairies' tricks almost as much as the fairies themselves did, Karl thought.

"Clever," Karl noted.

He hadn't really pegged the woman as the type to toy around with humans. Interesting. He tilted his weight back onto his own feet and started through the woods, but he soon heard voices. He quickly changed into a squirrel when he saw the two riding men enter the clearing and scaled the nearest tree.

"I swear I heard voices over here," one said anxiously to his companion.

"Forget it, Dan," the other said, and Karl heard the familiar sound of hopelessness and fear in his voice. "We're lost in these woods and we'll never get out. You're starting to hear things."

"I hope the fairies are nicer than the stories say..."

Karl paused, twitching his bushy tail, and considered leading them out. After a moment's contemplation, he decided against it. They could give him away. He was almost certain that someone had seen his face the night he kidnapped Nre and Cameron, and he didn't particularly want the Berensian and Grendathian armies chasing him on top of everything else.

So he skittered through the treetops, running along the branches over the men's heads and then following the worn path between the the thick underbrush. He knew the path to the snake hole by heart, no matter where he was in the woods.

When he arrived, he poked his nose into the hole, sniffing and peering around to make sure the real resident was out hunting. After he was certain, he turned himself into a mouse and scrabbled in, turning immediately right, into a branch the fairies added that was too small for the venomous snake to travel through. Having the snake unwittingly guarding their front door ensured that other animals didn't wander into the fairy's realm, which would just be a nuisance.

When Karl came into the slightly more spacious tunnel, he reverted to fairy form and began walking casually along the passage. A shimmering lady fairy flitted to his side and smiled confidently, sliding her arm through his. Karl grinned and kissed her in greeting. _Just Mel_, he remembered.

"How are you, beautiful?" he asked lightly, scrutinizing her face for any reaction to the kiss.

"Same old things; irritating passers by and trying not to get hit by the trees," Mel said with a shrug. She looked almost completely unfazed, except the bare hint of a blush in her left cheek. She continued on, either not noticing or ignoring Karl's pointed looks. She frowned. "Actually, I almost got a soldier yesterday — but he was a lot stronger than most. Anyway, where have _you_ been these last few days? I've missed you, after our little adventure with the prince and princess."

She smiled, letting her red lips curl up and together on one side.

"You've missed me, hmm?" he said with a grin, running his thumb along her jawline. It brushed the corner of her mouth. "I just had some business to take care of with Iain — that idiot I'm bound to."

"How many more wishes until you're free?" she asked, looking around at the opulence chosen by the fairies and fiari alike — the former merely for their rich tastes, and the latter to distract them from the fact that they were in slavery.

"Just the one," Karl said, voice upbeat and uncaring. "but he's never going to use it. I'll be stuck with the jolly roger until he kicks the bucket, I think."

Mel called the man a rude name under her breath, and Karl laughed heartily. Mel feigned annoyance for another minute, but then couldn't help joining in, their laughter echoing off the paneled walls. After a moment, Karl let his laughter trail off, then he slowed his walk to a gentle stop, taking both of her hands in his.

"You know, Mel, you're not bad," he said, words easy but face serious.

"Thanks," she said softly, smiling a little into his eyes. Her eyes were as green as pine trees.

"I think someone as good-looking as you cannot afford to be seen out of my company," Karl said decidedly. He voice carried a bare hint of playfulness; he looked just as serious.

"Was that your way of telling me we should see more of each other?" Mel asked, eyes twinkling. Her radiant black hair caught the light from the passage and threw it around her in a bubble of warmth.

"I'll meet you at your place tonight," he said by way of reply, leaning forward and kissing her again.

This time, it was less of a greeting, and more of a promise. When he pulled away, he grinned and walked off down the corridor.

"Okay," she whispered after him.

Karl smiled when the echo reached his ears. She really was an interesting fairy, one that he couldn't get a handle on right away. Having spent most of his time in the presence of fairies or fiari, he had a good idea of what to expect from any woman that approached him. With Mel, it was a little different. She didn't swoon as much as the others. He was determined to change that as he got to know her better.

He reached his chamber and fumbled in his pocket for the key for several moments before he finally wished it into existence hard enough for it to appear at his fingertips. He inserted the key into the lock and swiveled it, hearing the satisfied click of the lock with a pang of familiarity. It really had been too long since he'd slept in his own bed — weeks, he realized with a start. All the business with that idiot had kept him far too occupied.

Lights glittered to life as he walked into the room, bathing his possessions with an affluent glow. He didn't have a whole lot to his name, but what he did have was carefully chosen and positioned. The female fairies that inevitably found themselves in Karl's chamber always shook their heads; it was obvious that he had no strong woman influencing his life. The furniture didn't match, or even coordinate. It was all rich-looking and sinfully comfortable, but the varying shades and styles of fabric and wood made the room look mismatched.

Karl didn't care. He fell onto a plush couch of mahogany and crushed velvet and sunk into the relaxation of the moment without a worry. His arm slipped off the couch, the tips of his fingers brushing the warmly carpeted floor, but he didn't bother to pull them back up. Between the trees, Mel, and the peaceful aura of his chamber, he drifted off into a semi-contented sleep; all of his problems seemed at arm's length.

Until a shot like a bolt of thunder twanged in his chest, knocking him off the couch with a cry. He staggered to his feet, one hand on his sternum, face contorted with an ugly mix of surprise, pain, and anger.

"Stupid royals!" he shouted, as if that would help anything.

When it didn't, he slammed his eyes closed, muttered a few words, and disappeared.

* * *

A group of four girls left the hatter, giggling and admiring their new purchases. The girls had been saving their birthday money until they each had enough to buy a hat — none of them wanted to have a new hat unless everyone did. Once Jarintha had finally begged her parents for a few more stars, the girls had taken their long-awaited shopping trip and emerged victorious with the prizes they had been eying for months. Their excitement put them in a teasing mood, and it didn't take long for them to spot Taylor and Nathaniel leaving the cartographer's.

"What a looker," Cashlin said brazenly.

"Who, Nathaniel?" Theresa said, blushing and nudging Cashlin with her elbow. "He looks like your type — strong, mysterious, and with an accent to die for."

"What about that slave, though?" Marian laughed. "What a pitiful looking thing. He's just so _small_. He looks barely fourteen."

"Cute, in a way," Jarintha said, tilting her head to the side a little and smiling.

Cashlin looked at her, and a slow smile crept to her lips.

"I'll bet I could get him to kiss me."

"Oh Cashlin, you couldn't," tittered Jarintha. Her eyes looked shocked, but she was hiding it with a surprised smile. "He wouldn't let you! Even though he's a slave and you're not, there's no way."

"He won't? I'll put ten suns on it," Cashlin said coolly.

Almost every girl gasped. Ten suns was nothing to be joked around with, and they all knew it. Cashlin was the only one who could get her hands on that kind of money, with her father being a successful merchant. Jarintha's eyes narrowed as she thought about the odds. So many slave girls had approached him, and he wouldn't even respond to their flirting. There was no way he would kiss Cashlin. And so, she accepted the bet and smiled, knowing she was about to be rich.

"Deal, ten suns to the winner," Jarintha said. "But he has to kiss _you."_

"He will, just watch," Cashlin said confidently.

Her eyes flashed excitedly, up for the challenge, as she gracefully walked over to Taylor's right side, closely followed by the girls' eyes.

She was, without a doubt, a natural beauty. Shimmery black hair with just a hint of wave barely brushed her pale gold velveteen skirt. Her smooth tanned skin showed no hint of freckle or blemish, and her lips were full and pink. She was barely taller than the boy, she noticed. His chin-length hair fell softly around his somewhat angular face in a way that suited him.

Taylor refused to meet her eyes.

"Hello, Taylor," she said slowly, almost as if tasting the name. "My name is Cashlin."

Taylor did not reply, staring intently at his master's left boot. His walk was smooth and balanced — not the awkward gait of a teenaged boy.

"'Tisn't a crime to look at me, you know," she said, her voice laced with fond amusement.

His gaze didn't waver. His shyness really was quite endearing, when it wasn't directed at her. She was getting a little impatient, but she could see Jarintha and the others watching her closely. They continued in silence up the road. Cashlin didn't speak, and Taylor hardly seemed to know she was there.

They then turned onto the path leading up the hill and into the setting sun, much to the disappointment of the girls who were eagerly watching.

Cashlin glanced up at Nathaniel, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation behind him. He was probably used to girls approaching Taylor by now and was thinking about something else. Cashlin smiled: victory.

She moved quickly, turning and placing herself directly in front of Taylor. Before he could say anything that might alert Nathaniel to turn around, she clamped a strong hand over his mouth.

"I have ten suns resting on you, boy. I'm going to get them," she said in a low voice.

The boy's eyes, a dreamy blue, narrowed in confusion above Cashlin's hand. Then he seemed to come to some conclusion, and his eyes widened.

* * *

Nre looked at Cashlin, puzzled. The girl's warm hand was covering her mouth. It smelled like soap.

It didn't take too long for comprehension to dawn. She wasn't exactly sure what was about to happen, but it almost certainly had something to do with how much the girls were giggling before Cashlin walked over.

She was on edge; Cashlin was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and causing any sort of fuss that might reach back to her father was just asking for trouble. Undue suspicion of Cameron and Nre would only make their job of blending in harder than it was already, with their different accents and blank histories.

Nre's eyes darted to Cameron, but he had walked on, oblivious to her plight.

_He must really be thinking about that map, _Nre thought despairingly. _The one time he's not watching me like a hawk…_

Cashlin spoke then, and her voice was a hiss.

"Kiss me, slave."

Nre blinked. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but that wasn't exactly it. She looked at Cameron again, but he hadn't noticed; his feet were plodding automatically back to Atticus' house. Her mind turned immediately to any possible solution to her predicament.

_Stall until Cameron realizes I'm not right behind him. _

_No, that might take too long._

_Run. _

_But, she is definitely stronger than I, and taller. That means she probably runs fast. _

Nre glanced down.

_All the height is in her legs. Fast runner. Aghhh. I'll never be able to outrun her._

"Well, silent one?" Cashlin arched an eyebrow.

Nre, almost panicked at this point, was suddenly struck with inspiration.

She stuck out her tongue.

Cashlin shrieked and slapped her with her other hand, wiping the slimed one furiously on her skirt. Nre bolted up to Cameron, who had just disappeared over the hill.

"Nre, where were you?" he asked; he had just turned and noticed that she had lagged behind.

"Don't listen to her!" Nre said, not answering his question at all as she planted herself half behind him, rubbing her cheek.

"What's going—"

"Master Nathaniel!"

Cashlin cleared the top of the hill, stopping a foot in front of the confused Cameron. Nre noted with a glare how his eyes widened slightly.

_If you're even thinking about how pretty she is, I'm going to punch you so hard you won't be able to see straight until you're too old to see anyway, _Nre thought savagely, and with a bit of jealousy. She was very aware that Cashlin was prettier than she.

"Your slave, he tried to kiss me!" Cashlin said, looking properly scared and hurt.

Cameron didn't respond immediately, instead staring at Cashlin as what she just said ran through his brain a few more times. An amused smile came to his face as he looked back and forth between the two.

"He tried to _kiss_ me, my lord!" Cashlin repeated, her voice carrying a touch of hysteria. Obviously, he wasn't listening properly.

"Preposterous. Inconceivable," Cameron said brusquely, but his voice was soft with hidden amusement. "I'm sorry for your situation, milady..."

"Cashlin," she said huffily.

"Cashlin. I hope he doesn't give you any more trouble. Good day."

With a polite nod of the head and a wink, he turned around, beckoning Nre to walk by his side.

For the second time that day, the pair hurried away from the scene, leaving a gobsmacked native in their wake.

When they had gotten further away, Cameron looked at Nre.

"What was all that about?" he asked cautiously.

He could tell by the frown lines on her forehead that she was not as amused by the situation as she might be. While the interaction had appeared fairly ridiculous from his perspective, he tried to contain his laughter long enough to hear what she had to say about it.

"I think it was some silly bet," Nre said sharply. "I heard them discussing it, sort of, right before Cashlin walked over."

"A bet having to do with…?"

"Whether or not I would kiss her," Nre said, pulling a face.

Cameron had to refrain from teasing her just then, and it was very difficult.

"I'm sorry," he said. He seemed to be saying that a lot lately, and unfortunately it didn't seem to really help.

"I just wish they would leave me alone!" Nre exploded viciously.

Right after she said that, a lot of things happened at once.

* * *

**DUN DUN. Suspense! Ideas? Comments?**

Mazzie**: Rats, caught again. She's definitely a vampirate. -wink- I'm pretty terrible at riddles, too. No worries. Yeah, the floor can get uncomfortable eventually. Especially if it's not carpeted. x.x I'm glad you're enjoying Gloria and Thomas. I love them dearly. Annnd, you **_**almost **_**had sole reviewer power. But then Iliana swooped in. -grin- And I already wrote you a vampirate story! Greedy. -laugh-**

Iliana**: I'm so glad you decided to read this story! Thank you so much for reading it and reviewing it. I'm glad you like Karl, and the name Fidoglio, and Gloria and Thomas, and Nre's version of princess-ness. And Faidn. Thanks again for reviewing — can't wait to hear from you again soon.**

**Reviewers get a pack of chocolate covered pretzels!**


	18. In Which Someone Dies

**20 . 2 . 11**

**Yikes, that took far too long to update. I'm so sorry.**

* * *

Two horsemen in bright blue uniforms and a wagon were the sole occupants of the road that afternoon. The sun beat down hotly, but a strange frosty breeze from the wood counteracted it. The twenty Vests lounged in the wagon, chatting idly among themselves and taking turns cursing whenever the wagon hit a rock.

Normally Vests didn't travel via wagon, but these were new recruits, fresh from boot camp. They were now on their way to Fairnell, where they would receive their horses and their country route assignments.

A shout from the wagon broke the monotony of the long, hot journey as one young man spotted something by the side of the road.

"Well, heyo, Nich! Look at that!"

"It's just a deer or something — stop shouting," Nich said, shoving the speaker.

"No, it's not," the man insisted. "Lieutenant!"

The man on the horse that he was calling to, however, seemed to have seen the figure without the recruit's assistance. He signaled the wagon to halt and dismounted from his horse stiffly. He walked to the side of the road with measured paces that gave the impression of controlled leisure.

The men in the wagon had stopped talking, watching their Lieutenant with interest as he carefully knelt by the lump. They were too far to properly see or hear anything that was going on, but they jostled each other for a good look, anyway. The Lieutenant moved something around, and a foot came into clear view. The other Vests murmured among themselves, and the Lieutenant waved over his companion.

"It's a boy, Rempt," he said quietly as the other man approached.

"Any fool can see that, Lieutenant," Rempt spat irritably. "What use do we have of him? We're not making any progress while we sit here and let the water jugs evaporate."

"Oh, let's put him in the wagon. We have room. He might come in handy later, and he's going to die if we leave him here." He brushed his blonde hair out of his eyes — it needed a trim.

The other man hesitated. He didn't have a lot of compassion, especially for people that were stupid enough to get lost in the desert, but he did have a wagonload of new Vests watching him. He couldn't disobey the Code with all of them watching.

"Throw him in the wagon," he finally said with resignation, then added in an undertone, "He'll probably be dead soon, anyway."

"Yes, sir," the man replied, then called toward the wagon. "Ar, Nich — come help me."

Rempt walked back to his horse and mounted it.

"Yessir," the two recruits replied almost in unison, and swung themselves over the side of the wagon with ease.

Nich, the taller of the two, reached the man first. He let out a low whistle as he looked at the limp figure of the boy on the ground.

"You sure he's still alive, Lieutenant Draygon?" he asked.

"Barely," Draygon said grimly. "He's _very _dehydrated. Get him in the wagon and give him just a little bit of water — like you learned at boot camp. Not too much."

"Wow," Ar agreed as he arrived; the boy looked the classic case of near-death dehydration. "Well, to the wagon."

Nich and Ar carefully lifted the smaller boy between them and carried him to the wagon. They'd barely settled him on a pile of the Vest's packs when the wagon jerked forward again.

"Here we go," Ar muttered, taking his water canteen and barely wetting the boy's lips.

Nich and Ar took turns watching him and giving him tiny amounts of water at gruelingly long intervals, knowing that they were taking the boy's life in their hands. Too much water too fast, and he would die. Not enough soon enough, and he would die.

It was a grim ride to Fairnell.

* * *

When Karl opened his eyes, he was fully expecting to be in Ellespeth. He was prepared to start yelling at Cameron and Nre, and not stop until they were at least two countries away and he was on the verge of collapse because of lack of trees. Words were bursting to be spoken, words that he couldn't say, words that he wanted to say, and words that could _save him _if he could just _say them._

He was prepared, in short, to save the world.

When Karl did actually open his eyes, he found himself not in Ellespeth, but in the shanty by the sea where the world was going to begin its end. Instead of saving the world, he was on the verge of helping to destroy it.

He thought it an ironic justice. But, he had never put much stock in justice. So when Iain called his name, sharply and with far too much excitement, Karl lifted his eyes to the man, willing him out of existence.

While that approach didn't necessarily work, it did put the wizard back a few paces. In all the fuming, biting, reticent moods he had seen Karl in, this one was the most frightening. If he didn't know better, he would think the fiari was one wrong breath away from killing him. But he knew Karl couldn't do that, and so he smiled.

He'd figured out that Karl had been helping them once Nre used their first wish — and what a silly wish, too. A wish that the girls would leave her alone? But, he wouldn't complain; it was that wish that activated his locating spells, which told him the pair was in Ellespeth. As soon as he discovered they were in Ellespeth, he knew Karl was involved. He should have known from the beginning, and he was kicking himself for not suspecting it, but he knew now. And really, there was nothing Karl could do, anyway. The fiari was bound to _him. _

"I know where they are, Karl, but you knew that already," Iain said quietly. "You've known where they went for a while. You've been trying to hide them from me. Did you think they would never use a wish? That they would never slip up accidentally? Did you think you could just leave them in _Ellespeth _for the rest of their lives?"

Karl didn't say anything. Every ounce of magic in him was fighting against the bonds that tied him and Iain together, beating uselessly against the irrefutable magic that kept him from slaying the man where he stood.

"Poor, stupid fiari," Iain said, and he laughed. "All the same, you are. That's why the world would be better off without you and your malicious tricks, your heinous plans to blot humans off the face of the earth. If you weren't so caught up in yourself, you would be able to see why I'm striving after this goal — why I _will _achieve my mission."

He came right up to Karl, so the fiari could smell his breath against his face — human and desperate.

"This is why you, and all your kind, are going to die."

Karl was shaking visibly. He had come too far to fail now; he refused to admit defeat until every fairy in Ladyra was dead. Already, his mind was spinning to exactly how he was going to keep Cameron and Nre from being caught by Iain's cronies. As soon as the man let him go—

"Well, I'm about to have seven wishes. So I don't really need you anymore," Iain said. "I'll call you again if I require your services, but until then… enjoy your last days, Karl."

Karl spat in the man's face, then vanished.

* * *

Sarah ducked into the kitchen entrance of the tavern and out of the cool dusk, shivering slightly but smiling. She loved getting sent to the tavern. Just being away from the Master was present enough, but the kitchen was always swarming with slaves — whether slaves the worked there or personal slaves of the men in the tavern who didn't really want them hanging around all evening. It was always buzzing with gossip and good friendly conversation, not to mention one of Sarah's few friends: Dannlin.

She scanned the bustle of activity for his familiar face, but she didn't see him at first. A group of older women slaves had their heads together about something, and a pair of men were chatting idly about the dry season that was hitting them worse than usual this year.

It was eventually Dannlin that saw her, peering around the kitchen like she was lost.

"Ah, Sarah!" Dannlin said, catching sight of her and weaving through the crowd to her side.

"Hello, Dannlin," Sarah said with a smile.

"You're looking beautiful as ever," he replied with a wink, shaking his red-blonde hair out of his eyes so he could look at her properly. He _really _needed a haircut.

She shoved him playfully, then reprimanded him.

"Don't you start that, Dannlin, or I'll never speak to you again. And, you look like a dog. When are you getting that mop cleaned up? You look almost like you could be one of Cashlin's little friends."

With a mock sigh of hurt Dannlin placed a hand over his heart.

"And then I shall kill myself from the overwhelming sorrow of—ow!"

Sarah smiled almost smugly as he nursed his foot.

"And I don't know about my hair," Dannlin added, sticking his tongue out. "Master Finnigan hasn't noticed yet, so I don't have many options."

"I keep _telling _you that I'll cut it for you," Sarah said, rolling her eyes. "In fact, I'll do it right now, if you wish."

She looked around keenly for a knife.

"Didn't you come here for bread?" Dannlin asked quickly, nervous.

"Oh, yes," she said, remembering that she had an actual purpose in coming to the tavern besides talking with Dannlin. She would cut his hair later. "Could you get me two loaves, please?"

"If I can walk back to the ovens with my horrific wound," Dannlin replied stiffly, going to his task like a martyr and limping.

He returned moments later with two loaves of bread.

"You probably broke something, you know," he said in mock seriousness. "Finnigan won't be happy about that."

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him and took the bread. It was warm and heavy in her hands.

"Stop complaining and stick to your job here, Dannlin. And don't get any crazy ideas."

"Me? Never," he deadpanned, brushing the flour from his fingers. "I'm a very serious person and my imagination is incredibly underused."

Sarah snorted disbelievingly.

"What?" he said, wounded — then he chuckled.

"See you later, Dannlin," she laughed.

"I sure hope so..." He replied, smoothing a wrinkle on her sleeve and letting his fingers stay a bit longer than necessary.

With a glare that might have been hiding a blush, Sarah pulled away from him and pushed through the crowd toward the door. She nudged slaves left and right, muttering apologies, and in a moment, she was out in the cool, starry evening once more.

* * *

A girl was walking toward him where he crouched in the alley, but she didn't see him hidden in the shadows. She was carrying something bulky in her hands. The light from the half-alive sun illuminated her face, round and friendly, but the man wouldn't have known her, anyway.

_Her?_ the man thought, clearly and pointedly.

_Yes, _came the responding voice, dark and low in his mind._ She will cooperate. And if she doesn't..._

_I know._

The man pressed his back further against the stone wall and waited.

* * *

Sarah walked quickly, wishing fervently for a cloak. She was shivering now as the night fell, deep and cold, and she hadn't thought to borrow anyone's cloak before she left to fetch the bread. She was too thankful for a moment away from that place.

As she walked, she couldn't help marveling at the beauty of the stars, which were just beginning to come out. The moon was dim that night, and the stars shone brighter to make up for it. She picked out a few constellations by habit — ones she'd known since she was a child, like Floria and The Dragon. As she looked for the patterns, more stars seemed to appear everywhere she looked in the clear night.

Sarah loved the stars, especially the stories of the constellations. They were all so grandiose and heroic, or tragic. She could almost believe that they had happened once, a long time ago, before things were like this.

Her lack of concentration was part of the reason she hardly realized she was going into the Alley without checking around first — a dangerous idea even in the middle of the day.

The Alley was the scene of a sort of town myth. Allegedly, the founder of the town was killed there by his own brother just years after he erected the town with his own determination and money. As such, it was deemed cursed. Whether because of the title or because it was truly cursed, many of the bad things that happened in the town seemed to occur in or near the Alley. Robberies, murders, and other such things had taken place there over the years, and perhaps because of that, there were no occupied buildings in the immediate area. Any screams were answered too late.

In spite of its history, many still used it, if they looked around first. Slaves used it especially, as it cut through the center of town, and they weren't particularly bothered by the creep or the muck of the Alley. The good thing about the Alley, and the reason why most slaves weren't very apprehensive about it, was that there was no place for an ill-doer to hide. If someone had been in and out of the Alley enough times, they could tell if someone was leaning against the wall in the shadows.

Sarah had been through the Alley many times, and she would have easily been able to tell, had her gaze not been aimed at the heavens.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, stopping her movement, while another covered her mouth before she could scream. Sarah's shriek was muffled, and she dropped the bread with a soft _thunk _as she whirled around to attack. The hand moved from her shoulder to her wrists, imprisoning them in a breathtakingly painful grip.

"Stay still, and don't think about running, girl." The man's face was a dark shadow, despite the moonlight shining on it. Something about it made her skin crawl. "I can run faster than you'd believe. Any sound will earn you a permanent voyage to the Beyond. Am I clear?"

Sarah's heart was thumping wildly, but she managed a small nod.

"Good."

The man removed his hand from her mouth, using it to quickly remove a nasty looking knife from his belt. Though her panic escalated at the sight of the weapon, she tried to think clearly, tried to think of a way out. But, her mind was stalled on the knife, which was now being menaced at her.

"Now, you may answer my question," the man said. "Think hard and answer truthfully. If I don't like your answer, you may not leave the alley."

He paused, and the knife moved closer to her neck. Sarah's eyes followed it and she almost sobbed in fear. She tried desperately to heave her brain past the knife and onto a plan, but it wasn't cooperating. The knife looked odd in the man's hand, and he was holding it like he didn't like it very much.

"Have you seen a tall, handsome, red haired boy, and a shorter, plain looking, brown haired girl?"

The surprising question cleared her mind for a moment, and Sarah almost mentioned Nathaniel automatically, but she hesitated. This man obviously meant him harm, and Nathaniel's kind actions toward her and the slaves — especially Rose — deserved her loyalty. Just like she had the time when the Master was beating Rose, Sarah suddenly found her courage.

"No," she said, straightfaced.

Unfortunately, the man noticed her pause and shoved her against the wall, growling in frustration. Sarah almost lost all of her nerve just then. Whatever shadow had been covering his face slipped slightly, revealing a face contorted with rage. As she hit the wall she realized with a cold shock and this man was strong — very strong. The Master was a man, and not a weak one, but this man could easily best him in a fight, and he would easily be able to kill her without thinking twice.

"Tell me where they are and I will let you go," he said, and his voice was low and threatening.

She noticed, barely, that he hadn't raised the knife again. He also hadn't released her hands, and he was shoving them against her stomach, pinning her to the wall.

"I don't know!" she said frantically, then coughed a little as he shoved her harder, knocking the wind out of her.

"I know you know," he said. "I've dealt with people who don't like giving me information, and I can tell a lie from a truth in anyone a mile away. Tell me now, or I'll force it out of you, which will be most unpleasant."

"I don't—!"

He punched at her nose and she dodged awkwardly, unable to move far against his bulk. She wasn't quick enough. His fist caught her eye and slammed her head against the wall. Her vision exploded into stars and she gasped in pain.

"I don't know! Leave me alone!" she cried, trying to wriggle out from under his grasp, but he just shoved her harder against the wall.

Sarah could feel her own hands being forced into her ribs, pushing against them with too much strength. She tried to stand on her tiptoes to relieve the pressure, but then his hand was closing in around her throat.

"Tell me," he whispered, close to her face.

His eyes, barely visible, gleamed at her. She thought she felt something like string brushing over her face, but her thoughts were too panicked and mixed up.

"I don't want anything with you," he continued. "Just them. If you refuse to tell me, I'll kill you."

She didn't say anything, just struggled at the hands gripping her wrists, not really even knowing what she was doing anymore, or what she could do. _I won't tell._

His hands slowly tightened around her throat, sending her mind into a renewed panic. She tried to yank her hands out of his grip, tried to pull and push away from the strangling grip around her neck, but he was too strong. Lights flashed in front of her eyes again as her breath stopped entirely.

The feeling of drowning set in and she thrashed in his grip, but still he pinned her against the wall. His eyes bored into hers as she kicked and struggled, each movement more feeble than the last. Black started to encroach on her vision, and she felt herself slip away…

* * *

_Too loyal._

_She's gone?_

_Yes.

* * *

_

Carvin felt jostling and bumping, an unsettling sensation, before he even realized he was awake. He couldn't open his eyes, and he couldn't make his brain go at anything but a slow crawl. He wanted to sit up, but didn't have the energy. He managed a groan and focused merely on opening his eyes, while a devouring thirst threatened to suck him dry.

He managed to sluggishly come to the conclusion that he was no longer on the ground. And then he registered the warbly sounds as speech, and he heard some conversation, like it was through a tunnel.

"Hey, I think he made noise."

"What, him? No. He's dead, most likely."

"Dead? I think not."

"I'm telling you, he definitely made a noise." Insistent.

"Maybe if other people weren't making so much noise, I could agree with you." Annoyed, a tease.

"I think he aimed that comment at you, Met."

"If he knows what's good for him, he didn't." Menacing.

"Two suns on Met!"

"I'll take the bid!"

"I'm going to see if he's awake. He's probably starved." A quieter voice, moving closer.

"Hmf."

"Go ahead."

"Like we care."

"Stupid kid got himself lost."

"Serves him right."

"He probably killed someone and they threw him out." Dark voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Sunshine. You all are really _great _Vests."

"Just being realistic — why else would anyone ditch a kid his age on the side of the road, eh?"

"And anyway, Vests don't stick up for criminals."

"We only picked him up because he was dying — it would be against the Code not to." A placating tone.

"Maybe he stole something."

"Maybe he just _annoyed_ them."

Carvin got an eye open at the same time a blanket was removed from his face. He closed it quickly again with a cracked yelp of pain at the brightness.

"He _is_ alive, his eye was open!" It was the quiet voice that spoke again, this time excited.

"We don't care."

"Whatever you give him comes out of your rations, you know."

"By the left, Met! He's a human, not a fairy! He deserves a chance to live. Have a little heart! How'd you become a Vest, anyway?"

"Connections, my friend."

"Connections…" the quiet voice trailed off, obviously unimpressed.

"Mm."

"At least I'm not soft, like you."

"Such a woman."

"Women aren't all bad..."

"When he's _supposed_ to be a man, they are."

Carvin felt hair being pushed off his face, and two fingers rested against the side of neck. He could feel his own heart beating against the cool fingers, and he tried to open his eyes again, but he felt suddenly weak again.

"Hello lad," the quiet voice said. "My name's Arvid. Mostly called Ar. Can you open your eyes?"

The voice was soft and kind, and the hand that slipped behind his head was comfortingly cool and strong. He struggled again and opened his eyes. Ar immediately shaded them, but Carvin still squinted. He could barely see anything.

"You're badly dehydrated," the man told him. "But you're with the Vests, and no matter what these hooligans say, you're about as lucky as you could be to have been picked up by us and not a pack of bandits."

Carvin stared blankly; he knew one eye was open more than the other, and the whole world looked tilted. The man looked grave.

"Here," he said, and he put two fingers to Carvin's mouth.

Before Carvin could wonder what the man was doing, he tasted _water, _cool, refreshing, and brimming with life. He moaned, wanting to lunge forward and find wherever the water was coming from, but his vision was getting hazy again.

He felt a few more drops of water slip into his mouth, and he swallowed. His throat was dry, cracked, and impossible to operate, but he didn't care. He swallowed anyway, and then fell asleep before he felt how much it hurt.

* * *

"Thomas!"

The king was about to descend the stairs when his wife's voice reached him, sounding through their chamber door and down the hallway. It was loud, insistent, and — Thomas couldn't tell if fright or excitement laced her tone; it was too muffled and short an exclamation.

He turned on the spot and made his way back to the chamber as quickly as he could, and the image of his wife met his eyes as soon as he pushed the door open. She was clutching a letter, its envelope discarded on the floor carelessly. Thomas recognized the broken seal of Molln along the seam.

"What? What is it?" he asked breathlessly, searching her face for any clues as to the letter's contents.

"King Fraylish says he's heard rumors of a wizard along the coast," she said, her voice trembling and her eyes still fixed to the paper, moving along it at a rapid pace as she finished reading the other king's correspondence. "He didn't have the manpower to take the wizard into custody when he first encountered him a few months ago, with most of his army up north," she continued. "But he was planning to send a squadron down soon, since some of the citizens have been complaining."

Thomas was calling for Gered before she even finished her sentence.

"Ready two horses and enough provisions and clothes for a week," Thomas said when the man arrived. "We're going to Molln."

* * *

**So many different things happening! Any thoughts?**

Mazzie**: Well, there's the beginning of how it ends for Carvin, anyway. Heh. **_**Can **_**vampirates be considered nice? I'm not certain. O.o Poor Nre, indeed. -laugh- Yup, cliffhanger indeed. And this is a mini-cliffy too. Enjoy! -chuckle- Really? I considered it a short story. Or a one-shot, more like. But then I gave it to my roommate to read, and she's demanding that I write more about Thess and Ephraim. Her demands are also accompanied by threats of physical harm. D: Ahaha, that being said, I might see if Cadmus has anything more to say about our lovely, dysfunctional, sea-faring companions. But I'm not sure where to go: forward, or backward? Is five days ASAP enough, hm? And also, Carvie is the worst and best idea I've ever heard. Go for it. XD**

Eva**: Of course you liked Karl better when he was doing those things — he was actually being a respectable gentleman instead of a rebellious renegade! About the hunger/thirst — I do agree, but I think the magic time-speeding-up makes everything a little hazy in that regard, so that's why things are as they in the this chapter. But definitely yes, they can't have too much food or water at once, or they'll die. Yikes! And yes, things definitely did start moving fast this chapter. It'll go on like this from here, pretty much, so hold on to your hats. I hope I gave you enough time to catch up on your other stories so you can review this one promptly. —teasing grin and wink—**

Iliana**: Hah, poor Carvin. I feel like the man is constantly being beat up! Karl… is definitely a guy. Whether he is good or bad is definitely up to your to decide. Karl will be pleased that you've decided he's a good guy (I think). —laugh— Yeah, the whole kissing thing was a silly notion I wrote in the original that I couldn't bear to get rid of. Haha. And you know, I should have updated on the 10****th****, but we can see how well that worked out. [Not well.]**

**Reviewers get a slice of peach pie!**


	19. In Which There Is a Chase

**23 . 2 . 11**

**Since that chapter was such a long time coming, I'll give you another. I hope everyone is enjoying the unremarkable last week of February!**

* * *

As soon as the words left Nre's mouth, she had a funny feeling in her mouth, a stringy sensation that vanished when she moved her tongue around. Before she could dwell on that, however, a stronger feeling grabbed her. Cameron took her hand, and his eyes told her that he was experiencing the same thing.

The only way Nre could describe it to anyone later was to say that it felt like when you curl up under a blanket when you don't want to get up, and someone comes and drags the blanket off of you without even a how do you do. It felt like a huge blanket had been ripped off their heads, and something cold and dark was swirling around them in the air — something not quite like the air itself, but lighter. Nre thought with a shudder that it might get inside of her.

"Cam, what's happening?" Nre said. "Karl didn't warn us about this."

"I don't know," Cameron replied, looking in every direction as if he expected an attack; paranoia and vulnerability settled in his mind, though he had no logical reason for either of them. "Let's go inside."

They hurried to the house without another word, the fell breeze blowing around them. When they got to the house, they locked the door behind them against the setting sun, but it didn't shut out the darkness.

Something terrible had happened, but they didn't know what to do. The only thing they knew for sure was something they were both thinking.

"We have to get out of here," Cam said under his breath as they walked up the stairs, careful to make sure that none of Atticus' slaves heard him. "Whatever this is, we can't just stay here and let it … soak in, or whatever it's doing."

"How do we know it isn't going to follow us?" Nre asked as they entered the room.

"We don't," Cameron admitted.

He closed the door and took Nre's hands. She looked him in the eyes, and there was determination there.

"But I won't let anything happen to you, Nre. If there's any chance that running away will leave this — whatever it is, behind us, then we're going to run."

"What about Karl?" she posed, her voice quiet so as not to be overheard.

"He'll find us, I'm sure," Cameron said.

There was a pause while Nre thought, but the coldness blew through her thoughts and she shuddered, then nodded.

"Okay, let's go."

Cameron folded her in a quick embrace, and Nre wrapped her arms around him, fighting the darkness away. It was only a moment, but it left Nre's chin a little higher and her shoulders a little squarer.

Just then, there was a frantic pounding on the door, making both of them jump a foot in the air. They shared a scared look, and Cameron quickly threw everything into the pack Karl had given them while Nre crept out the door to see who was there.

A passing slave dropped the mending she was carrying in fright as the knocking continued.

Clean folded clothes and several spools of thread tipped out of the basket onto the freshly swept floor as the lady fumbled with the lock.

She finally managed to unfasten the metal bolt and opened the door marginally, looking through the crack warily. Anyone who came knocking after sunset was suspicious — she half-expected to see the Vests. What she saw instead was a gangly boy of about sixteen who looked scared out of his mind.

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to Master Nathaniel, please. It's urgent!" the boy gasped, eyes wide with fright.

"Who are you, boy?" the lady questioned, making no move to open the door further. She didn't trust a good act; she looked behind him for anyone who might be following him, but she saw no one.

"Dannlin McCraw, milady, from the tavern," he said between breaths. "Slave of Master Finnigan."

"The tavern… I don't know your face, lad," she said, unmoved by his pleas.

"Honest I am! Please, I need to talk to him! I have a message from Sarah!"

"Sarah, eh?"

The woman considered this, but knew that Nathaniel had taken a shine to Sarah, so keeping a message from Sarah from reaching him would not be wise. It didn't appear that the boy was dangerous, anyway — perhaps a bit mental, but that never hurt anyone.

"Very well, boy," she conceded. "I shall get Master Nathaniel, but this is against my better judgment. If you're lying to me…"

She shut the door rather hard, leaving her threat unfinished, and bustled upstairs to Cameron's room, brushing past Nre on her way. She knocked on the door, and Cameron opened the door, his bag half packed on the bed. The woman didn't notice.

"Slave Dannlin McCraw wishes a word with you, my lord," she said briskly, curtsying. "I left him at the door. He doesn't look trustworthy, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I don't mind at all," Cameron said, looking past her to Nre. The girl shrugged, unsure what to make of the situation. She didn't recognize Dannlin, but he didn't really look like anything to fear. Cameron stepped out into the hall and closed the door, then walked down the steps.

His walk to the front door was trailed at a respectable distance by Nre and the slave woman, who were both very curious to know who Dannlin McCraw was. When Cameron reached the door, he opened it just wide enough to let the light from inside the house fall on the boy's features before he spoke to him.

"You wanted to talk with me?" Cameron said, his brief glance assuring him that he did not recognize the petrified boy in front of him.

"Yes, sir, my lord Nathaniel," Dannlin stuttered. "I'm a… a friend of Sarah's, sir. You knew her?"

"Yes…" Cameron replied slowly.

The darkness continued to whirl around his head, and he didn't like it. The boy bit his lip, and Cameron saw tears in his eyes.

"She's—that is to say—I didn't reach her in time, and she told me to—"

"In time for what, Dannlin?" Cameron asked, unable to piece together the boy's stammering speech into a coherent sentence, but his blood was running cold.

"She was—" Dannlin started to say, voice anguished.

His eyes begged Cameron not to make him say it, but Cameron just waited for him to continue, face a picture of deathly resignation.

"She was killed, sir, in the Alley," he finally managed to say. "I arrived only a moment too late. She told me to tell you to run, that they were coming after you, before she…"

He couldn't finish the sentence. Nre covered her mouth with her hand, shocked and horrified. Cameron's face was equally grim, but he managed to hold himself together well enough to speak.

"Thank you, Dannlin," he said tightly, and gripped the boy's hand in his strong one.

Dannlin ducked his head, lifting his other hand to wipe his face of the tears he hadn't been able to hold back any longer.

"I'm so sorry," Cameron said, a statement directly from his heart..

After a long moment, he let go of Dannlin's hand.

"Go back home, and lie low," he instructed.

Dannlin nodded, and he turned to leave when Cameron closed the door.

"Would you leave us a moment, please?" Cameron asked the woman, who was taking her time picking up the mending.

"Yes sir," she said immediately, taking her basket and leaving the room swiftly.

As soon as she'd left, Cameron took Nre's hand and spoke quickly and quietly, his voice urgent.

"They'll find us within the hour, if they've made it to the town already. Grab some food from the kitchen, as much as you can, and hurry. I'll gather the clothes and saddle a horse. Meet me at the stable as soon as you can."

Nre nodded, squeezed his hand, and fled the room.

* * *

As he was constantly in and out of delirium, Carvin wasn't very aware of what was going on around him. All he knew is that he was always dreaming, seeing an array of things. Most of them had to do with water, or food, or Nre, which he couldn't reach no matter how hard he tried.

He was running, panting, and sweat ran down his forehead and stung his eyes. He wiped it away and ran harder, his eyes trained on the river he could barely see in the distance. Nre was calling him, and she sounded scared. His feet pounded the ground, raising dusty clouds behind him, but he outran them, desperate for just a drink of water — just a few drops…

He felt moisture on his lips and his eyes snapped open. The desert disappeared, replaced with a sparse, wood-paneled room. A man sat in front of him, a cup of water in his hand. He had just poured some of it in Carvin's mouth, and he smiled when he saw Carvin's eyes open.

"Hello, soldier," the man (Ar, Carvin thought he might have remembered — it was the name he heard most) said. "How are you feeling?"

"Dead," Carvin croaked, his eyes focused on the cup of water.

Ar noticed his glance and put the cup out of reach.

"Not too much at once, or you'll get sick," he said.

Carvin wondered if the man thought he was living in perfect health now.

"Just a bit more," Carvin said hoarsely, looking at the cup.

He could still taste the water in his mouth and he needed _more. _Ar picked up the cup obligingly and brought it closer to Carvin.

"You're still weak; just open your mouth," the man instructed.

Carvin obliged, opening his parched mouth and letting Ar dribble a unsatisfying amount of water into it. As soon as the water touched his tongue, he lost all control. He swallowed the water, then grabbed at the cup, desperate for more. Ar let out a cry of surprise and pulled the cup away from him, but Carvin growled and lunged for it. This was a hard feat when he was laying in bed, only barely sitting up. Still, he managed to upset the cup, spilling water all over the floor.

Blind anger filled him at the sight of the life-giving substance being calmly sucked up by the dried floorboards and he swung at Ar, somehow holding him responsible for the atrocity. Ar almost took the fist to the side of his head, not expecting such violence from the man who had been motionless for almost a day. He just managed to intercept the fist and deflect the blow, pushing Carvin backward onto the bed again.

"Calm down, soldier," the man said, breathing a little heavily out of surprise.

Carvin struggled against the hands that held him down, but he was far too weak to put up a proper fight. After a moment or two, he went limp with a moan, exhaustion taking over. And then, he was asleep once more.

Nre's face slipped in and out of his mind, crying and frightened. No matter what he did, he couldn't find her.

* * *

Cameron dashed from the house, the bag swinging alongside him as he made a beeline for the stable. The bright moon and stars seemed to be shining specifically on him, so as to make his flight conspicuous. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn't see anyone on the hill leading to Atticus' house.

Karl suddenly appeared in front of him and grabbed his arm, almost knocking the prince over as his movement was stopped.

"Where's the fire, Cameron?" he asked.

It sounded like he meant to be funny, but he was failing terribly. Cameron, thinking humor was terribly inappropriate given that people who had already murdered Sarah in cold blood could be running over the hill at any moment, ignored the statement.

"Something happened, and they've found us," Cameron replied quickly, tugging his arm from Karl's grasp but looking him steadily in the eye. "We have to get out of here. Help us."

Karl closed his eyes and looked like he was in pain.

"I can't," he said through gritted teeth, his voice stretched. "I'm sorry."

"Can't or won't?" Cameron snapped. He was more than tired of these games, especially now that lives were truly on the line. He thought he heard voices growing nearer, but he couldn't be sure.

"What does it matter?" Karl shot back. "You're wasting time. I came to give you this; it's all I can do."

Karl handed him a heavy sack that clinked softly. Money. He dropped it in his pack.

"And ride south," Karl said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. "_South. _I'll meet you when I can. Oh!"

He seemed to have suddenly thought of something and an almost genuine smile came to his face. He grabbed Cameron's face in both of his hands and kissed the man's forehead.

"Now, go with speed!" Karl said, and vanished noiselessly.

Cameron was frozen for only a moment, blinking at the odd exchange. He felt a slight tingling on his forehead, but he shook himself and bolted for the stables once more. The tone in the fairy's voice told him more than his words did. Determined hopelessness was threaded through every word he had said. The situation was dire.

And he definitely was hearing voices now.

When he entered the stable, Rose and Nre were saddling up the two most reliable horses quickly and with much slipping on Nre's part.

"They're coming up the hill," he said quickly, then walked up beside Nre and tightened the saddle on the bay. "We just needed one, you know."

"Rose is coming," Nre said, her voice flat and unapologetic.

"All right," Cameron said, in far too much of a rush to argue. "Finish this up while I leave Atticus some money for his two best horses."

Cameron walked over to the bench and opened the pouch Karl had given him. It was full of gold and gold-edged silver coins. He wasn't sure which ones were which, after his short stay in town, but he was fairly certain these were all suns and moons — the coins with the largest value.

He quickly took out what he estimated was enough for the horses and laid it on the bench before turning to the girls.

They heard someone knock on the door up at the house, and Cameron's heart jumped into his throat.

"Rose, you ride the black one and follow me," he ordered hurriedly. "And N—"

"Sir, I can't ride," Rose said softly, cutting him off.

She moved her dark hair behind her ear, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

"You can't—nevermind." Cameron said shortly. "What about you?" he asked, turning to Nre.

"Only sidesaddle," she said helplessly.

They heard door at the house open, and voices were raised.

"That will have to do," he said quickly, and hoisted Rose onto a horse.

She didn't make a sound, quickly pinning her skirts underneath her as Cameron helped Nre onto the other horse. Cameron then swung onto the horse in front of Rose and started easing toward the opposite door, which one of the girls had already opened.

"Rose, wrap your arms around me. I don't want you to fall."

She hesitated. There were shouts up at the house.

"Now, Rose!" he said desperately.

Rose looped her arms around Cameron's waist, clasping them together firmly at the front.

"Just kick him, and he'll follow me," Rose said to Nre, just loud enough to be heard. "Come here, Acey, come on," she cooed.

Nre nudged the horse and it willingly walked forward toward Rose.

Footsteps were heard pounding toward the barn. Nre thought she heard the scraping of a sword being drawn, but she couldn't be sure if her imagination was playing tricks on her. They _had _to get out of there.

"Don't fall behind, let's go!" Cameron said, clearing the door and kicking his mount into a trot, then a canter.

Nre's, thankfully, followed suit as Rose kept encouraging it. The barn door burst open behind them, and there were shouts. Rose buried her face in Cameron's back; if they hadn't been on moving horses, Cameron would have felt her trembling. Nre kept her eyes straight forward as her heart raced out of control. They would be after them at any moment, she knew it.

She urged the horse faster, keeping pace with Cameron, though she felt like she was going to fly off. Sidesaddle wasn't nearly as comfortable or enjoyable as this; she felt she had been cheated from the riding experience entirely. If not for the imminent danger or death that was pursuing them, she might have even had fun.

Remembering Karl's firm instruction, Cameron angled his horse south, keeping behind the houses and as much out of sight as he could while Nre followed him closely. The moon kept shining on them, entirely unaware of their keen desire to be unseen.

However, even with the bright moonlight, they heard no horses coming after them, and they were out of the town much too soon. Cameron glanced behind them and was startled to see how far they'd come. There was no way these horses could cover that much ground in so little time.

His forehead tingled, and Cameron grinned. "Go with speed," the fairy had said.

"Thank you," he whispered, and leaned further forward over the neck of his horse.

* * *

When Carvin woke next, his head was a lot clearer. Ar and some of the others had been giving him water for long enough that he was no longer delirious, though he was voraciously hungry. He was also impatient to leave and search for Nre — every day that passed was one day where she could be further away and further in danger.

Ar rationed his food, starting with smaller portions and moving to larger ones until Carvin slowly began to regain his strength, though he was still weak. Ar refused to let Carvin try to stand yet, much to his frustration.

While he was trapped in bed, he got to know Ar better, as he was usually the one to bring him food three times a day. He was just a few years older than Carvin, and he was from a town in the north. He joined the Vests because his mother was dead and his father was a drunk, and he wanted to get out and do something useful.

In the smattered conversations with the man, and all the conversations he overheard outside the door of the sick ward where he was staying, Carvin found out a lot about where he was. The fairy had said she was sending him to the East Wood, and that was apparently in Ellespeth — wherever that was. Carvin assumed it was on the far eastern side of Ladyra that wasn't usually covered in Berensian geography.

He also learned that the group of people who had picked him up were the Vests, some sort of local-authorities-gone-viral group. He was currently in their headquarters. Listening to the sort of things they arrested people for, Carvin didn't think he agreed with what they were doing.

"But the kingdom would fall apart without us," Ar explained.

He'd brought Carvin his food and had lingered there instead of returning to his exercises.

"Think about what you're doing," Carvin said, gesturing emphatically. "You're throwing mothers in prison for not having husbands. What do you expect them to do about it?"

"I don't make the law, Carvin; I just enforce it."

Carvin gave Ar a look that made him sigh. He tried again.

"Look, we're just trying to keep people from ruining their own lives. This is all they have right now, even if it isn't a perfect system. Surely you can see the big picture."

Carvin didn't like it, but he could see what the man was driving at. He conceded.

"But I still think there's a better solution."

"There probably is," Ar said with a wry smile. "But until then…"

He chuckled.

"Actually, the Lieutenant wanted me to ask you if you wanted to join the Vests. You're not from around here, but you haven't mentioned where you're going. He figures you're running away from something, and being a Vest will give you some steady money, anyway."

"Become a Vest?" Carvin said, incredulous.

The very idea was ridiculous. But then he remembered something he'd heard about the Vests.

"Vests run circuits of the country, right?"

"Yeah, we do," the man said. "Every town."

If he was looking for Nre and Cameron, this might be the only chance he would have of actually finding them. And so he found himself agreeing, much to Ar's surprise, and his own.

"All right. I'll do it," he said.

"Really?" Ar's eyes were wide, and he tilted his head to the side slightly, as if he was worried that he'd heard Carvin wrong.

"Really," Carvin said. "When do we leave?"

"My group is leaving in two days," Ar said slowly, "but I'm not sure you'll be ready to go. You have to train, and you can't even stand yet."

"Because you won't _let _me stand," Carvin said brusquely. "I'll be up tomorrow. How long will it take to train?"

Ar hesitated.

"The training is mostly to help the farmers' boys learn how to take orders and ride horses properly, honestly. If you know how to ride and take orders, it'll only take a day at most."

"That won't be a problem," Carvin said confidently.

He pushed the blankets off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Whoah, slow down," Ar said, jumping to his feet and pushing Carvin back. "You shouldn't be standing yet."

Carvin just grabbed the man's arm and pulled himself to his feet, swaying slightly but standing.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I want to talk to the Lieutenant."

Ar wanted to argue, but instead he just shook his head; he'd let the Lieutenant deal with him.

"Okay. See if you can stay standing while I'm gone."

Carvin knew that Ar didn't believe he could, and he narrowed his eyes at the man.

"I will," he said.

Ar rolled his eyes and left the room to fetch the Lieutenant, leaving Carvin standing comfortably by the bed. Once he got over the vertigo from lying in bed for so long, he had no trouble standing. When the Lieutenant arrived, he immediately extended the same offer that Ar had given him. Carvin accepted, and the Lieutenant scheduled him to leave with Ar's group in two days.

He went to sleep that night with a smile, eager to be on his way. When he woke the next morning, however, smiling was the last thing on his mind.

* * *

**What do you think of Carvin's development? What's that weird stuff around Cameron and Nre? And what on earth is going on with Karl?**

Lady Thorne**: Thanks for reviewing! Oh, and thanks for pointing out that typo, also. I'll go back and fix that, and give you a shoutout. Haha, I know — that's the danger of writing the sequel and then rewriting the original… everyone already knows who survives! I'm glad you're liking Gloria and Tom's involvement, though. Thanks for reading!**

Mazzie**: But, they are interesting theories nonetheless. —grin— Hah, yeah, you know Carvie will be okay since he was in the sequel. It really sucks all the suspense out, doesn't it? —chuckle— Fact. No one ever listens to Karl. Maybe they should. Or… maybe they shouldn't; he's not exactly so pure-intentioned all the time, is he? Heh heh heh. Mm, yeah, minor implausibility — work with me here, Mazzie. :-P Iain is a meanie, indeed. And why DOES he need Nre and Cameron? Hmmm… Hah, "****Villains never really think these things through." Agreed. Hey, if I can't have you in suspense, I can at **_**least **_**toy with your emotions. —impudent face— Heehee. Gloria and Thomas were due for some action, I feel. Oh, you lost the story? I did post it on my drabble-blog (which is my homepage on my FF profile) if you wanted to see it again. I believe the title is "I Love You." Annnnd… you definitely are a creeper. It's a good thing I lock my door at night. —laugh—**

**Reviewers get a bowl of macaroni and cheese!**


	20. In Which Faidn's Mother Is A Hero

**27 . 2 . 11**

**Is it weird to anyone else that March starts on Tuesday? I feel like this year is flying already.**

* * *

Carvin stumbled through the wood, squinting his eyes to see in the impenetrable blackness. Leaves slapped his face as he pushed the reaching branches out of his path. All around him the trees were whispering words just beyond reach, interrupting each other and hissing in his ear.

He pressed on, searching for something, though he couldn't remember what. He could barely see; no moonlight or starlight wiggled through the canopy of the trees above him to shed their light on his quest.

He stumbled over something and looked sharply down, then realized it wasn't a branch, but a pale arm. He caught himself before he fell on the figure and dropped to his knees beside the person. It was a girl, clothed in some sort of thin sundress of pale blue. Hair covered her face, but Carvin's stomach was turning already. He had a sickening realization, even before he pushed the hair away with trembling hands.

Nre's eyes stared back at him, blank and chillingly lifeless. Blood was dried around her neck, where someone had slit her throat hours ago. Carvin shook his head slowly, but he couldn't look away from her too-pale face. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right.

_This isn't real._

Carvin forced his eyes open, breathing heavily as the nightmare faded from his vision. He was alone in the room, his new uniform lying on the chair beside his bed where Ar would always sit. He covered his face with one hand, willing his heart to stop racing.

He told himself it was just a dream, a dream brought about by his impatience to find Nre, but he couldn't believe it. Every time he had shut his eyes in the past two days, he slipped into horrible daydreams of Nre dying or dead. The past two nights had been the worst — he woke up ten times in the night, panting and wide eyed as another dead version of his fiance slipped from his eyes.

Ar walked in then, planning to wake Carvin, but he stopped when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"Nightmare?" Ar asked, moving the uniform and sitting down.

Carvin nodded wordlessly.

"Again?" Ar pressed.

"Yeah," Carvin said, his haggard voice surprising even himself. Did he sound that awful? He tried to think of something to say to justify his reaction, but he couldn't think of anything, so he ended helplessly. "It's just so real, every time."

Ar looked at him; Carvin's face was drawn and old. Nightmares alone shouldn't bother a person that much.

"Look at me," he instructed.

"What?" Carvin asked, lifting his eyes.

"Closer," Ar said, leaning forward and staring hard into Carvin's eyes.

Carvin didn't move, staring directly into Ar's eyes. After a moment, Ar glanced away with a troubled expression.

"Magic, and no doubt," he said. "You'll have to see the fairy, if the Lieutenant agrees."

"How do you know?" Carvin said defensively.

He didn't like the idea of meeting a fairy again.

"My mother was a gypsy — she taught me a thing or two about spotting curses, though I can't do anything with magic myself," Ar said. "The skill comes in handy from time to time, even though I can't get rid of the curses. That's why we have a fairy."

"I really don't think—" Carvin started to say, narrowing his eyes and leaning back, but Ar chuckled and interrupted him.

"Don't worry. She's completely contained. We got her in a box of dragon scales and everything." He paused and frowned. "I wonder how you managed to pick up a curse, though. Must've been since you were so close to the Wood. That place is full of magical no-gooders."

"Maybe so," Carvin said, thinking of the fairy in the West Wood. Maybe she'd thought nightmares would be a good parting gift, along with the starvation and dehydration.

He was about sick of magic, he decided. It would be nice to go back home after all of this and have a nice normal few months before—

Carvin swallowed as he remembered that he was to marry Nre, probably within the year. That is, if they all got back safely.

"I'll talk to the Lieutenant," Ar said, noticing Carvin's distraction and bringing him back to the conversation. "Hopefully we can get you back to normal before we leave."

"Thanks," Carvin said, shaking his head to clear it and glimpsing Nre's dead eyes once more. He shuddered.

"Get dressed and meet me for breakfast," Ar said, leaving the room.

Carvin nodded and tried to focus on his uniform to keep any other visions from plaguing his mind.

* * *

The trio rode hard along the road heading south, easily outdistancing their pursuers due to whatever magic Karl had given Cameron. Nevertheless, Cameron refused to stop for hours. The sky was beginning to lighten before he finally spotted an outcropping of trees that looked large enough to hide in for a few hours. He signaled Nre wearily, and they slowed their horses to a walk (Nre with more difficulty than Cameron) and left the path. At some point along the ride, Rose had somehow fallen asleep leaning on Cameron's back. Nre, too, was struggling to stay awake as they approached the thicket. Her vision was blurring with fatigue, and when she yawned, she almost fell off the horse.

"Rose, we're getting off," Cameron said, unclasping the girl's hands and nudging her a little.

She startled awake with a frightened gasp.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Master Nathaniel," she said quickly, stumbling over her words in her haste to say them.

"It's not a problem, really," he said, looking over his shoulder at her face, which was flushed. "Now hold on; I'm getting off first."

He slid off awkwardly, so as not to kick Rose with the usual dismount, and turned around.

"Slide yourself around to face me and I'll help you down," he said to Rose, who looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"What about me?" Nre asked, her mouth full of horse fur.

After taking one look at how far away the ground was, she had opted for the safer option and had collapsed on top of Ace's neck.

Cameron chuckled at her splayed position and gave her some instructions.

"Put your legs on one side of the horse and turn on your stomach, then slide off carefully," he directed.

"Mmkay. Just a moment," she murmured sleepily. The horse was quite warm.

Cameron had already turned his attention back to Rose who was sitting sideways on the horse, holding on to the saddle horn with her right hand for balance. She was looking down, avoiding Cameron's eyes, but he saw that her knuckles were white.

He hesitated, trying to figure out how to help her off without scaring her further. It didn't take a scholar to see that she was skittish of men, and he didn't want to make her more apprehensive. But there was no getting past it; holding her waist was the only way he could help her off. She was too small to get down entirely by herself.

"Rose?" he said.

She looked up, and he caught her eye. He spoke almost apologetically.

"I'm going to hold your waist as you slide off, so you don't lose your balance," he said. "Just for a moment."

She nodded; her face was unreadable. Knowing that would be the best he would get out of her, Cameron stepped up to the horse and gently gripped her waist, helping her slide off safely. As soon as her feet hit the ground he let go, being ready to steady her if she needed it.

Nre had already begrudgingly gotten off the warm horse, and she led Ace while Cameron led the bay deeper into the brush. They cleared a spot around a tree and tied up the horses before leaning against the tree tiredly.

Rose and Nre quickly dozed off, but Cameron kept an eye and ear open for their pursuers. He watched and waited for a few hours as the sun climbed higher in the sky, but he didn't like waiting by the side of the road, even if they were under cover of trees. He woke them around midmorning and helped them to groggily mount.

They continued along the the well worn path until midday. Rose stayed awake this time, her eyes eagerly taking in the unfamiliar landmarks. Cameron and Nre skimmed the horizon for any sign of a town, but all they saw was browning grass in every direction. There were no more trees, and no signs of life.

Cameron was acutely aware of the lack of cover, and anxiously looked behind them on several occasions, but he didn't see anyone.

_Yet._

* * *

Faidn sat, leaning against the smooth wall gingerly. His back was raw and painful, but the coolness soothed it somewhat. He was sitting in the darkest corner of the room, invisible for all practical purposes. He tended to linger out of sight in the evenings, especially lately, since he usually got in trouble for something when he didn't.

He listened intently to his parents talking in the other room.

"—Don't know what I'm going through, Liza," his father said roughly.

Faidn knew he had been drinking, but his words were still clear as always. It was almost impossible to tell with him.

"But you shouldn't take it out on him!" his mother argued, her normally soft voice heated, though she was trying to be quiet. Faidn still heard every word. "Especially when you've been drinking."

"Only a little bit. And he deserved it."

"What for?" Liza said emphatically.

"For running off to the palace with that fool-headed Carvin! He knew I needed him around here. That boy, both of them, are foolhardy. They'll never grow up, especially not Faidn. Carvin, well, if he gets back alive from this half-brained quest of his, he'll be sobered up, mark m'words. But Faidn…"

"That was weeks ago, Hollen! And he gave you money before he left!"

"Not enough to make up for his leaving," Hollen said. "Now hush, Eliza. Your chattering and nagging tires me."

"Hollen, don't do this—"

"No. I'm going to bed, Liza."

Footsteps thumped and a door slammed shut.

Faidn laid his head against the wall with a sigh. His father never drank enough to be terrible, just enough to wobble his judgment a little. But he'd been doing it more lately, and Faidn was the one taking the brunt of the punishment.

Once he was sure that his father wasn't coming out of the bedroom, he stood up and walked carefully out of the dark corner and into the kitchen, where his mother was. He stopped in the doorway and looked at her a moment; her brown hair was escaping its tie and straying down to her face, and her nose and chin were as strong and slightly pointed as ever. She looked up quickly when she heard his footsteps but her expression softened when she saw that it was Faidn.

"You heard all that didn't you," she said. It wasn't a question; her voice was weary.

He nodded and walked forward, and she clenched his hand.

"He doesn't mean that, you know," she said, trying to convince him. "He's proud of you, working so hard as a huntsman."

"I know, Mama," he murmured, at least pretending to believe what she was saying.

He was fairly certain that his father wasn't _proud _of him. He just might not be as harsh as he sounded. Liza didn't press the issue; she turned back to her bread dough, kneading it.

"But I've been thinking, Fai. I think you need to go after them."

His head snapped up.

"What?" he said, perplexed.

"I think you need to go after them," she repeated, looking at the dough. "Carvin, the princess, and the prince."

Faidn shook his head emphatically. _Has she lost her mind?_

"I can't leave you here with him," he said decisively, nodding in the direction of the bedroom and keeping his voice low. "There's no telling what could happen if I'm not here for him to take his anger out on! I can handle it, Ma — I don't know about you."

She looked up from the bread and Faidn saw hurt on her face. He almost apologized, but he hadn't said anything untrue. How his mother could deal with his father, he didn't know. He could barely deal with him some days.

"Fai," she said quietly, "he won't do anything to me."

"How do you know?" he insisted.

"I—I don't for sure," she admitted. "But listen to me. You need to go after Carvin."

"Why, Ma?" he asked.

He wasn't sure where this random idea of hers had come from. He'd tried not to worry about Carvin within her earshot, though his friend was constantly on his mind. He'd contemplated leaving a few times, but never seriously. He couldn't leave his mother.

"I can't say rightly," she said after a pause. "I just got a—a feeling. And it will be good for you — get some of that adventure out of you while you're young, and maybe you can settle down later on."

She smiled at him, a tight, tired smile that still made her green eyes sparkle.

"Ma…" he said, unsure.

"Go, Fai. I've got food for you all packed up, and money too."

"What about a horse?" he pointed out, "I can't take any of ours; Da needs them."

"You know very well that your father doesn't need Danny but once in a blue moon," she said, raising her eyebrow. "He's too flighty for hunting work."

"Master Friedrick—" he protested, thinking of the blacksmith he was apprenticing with in town.

"I'll talk to him," she interrupted.

"What if I die, Ma?" he finally said in exasperation.

Her expression sobered. She bit her lip as she looked him and and down, and she left the dough to cup his face in her floury hands.

"Then you'll have died doing something not many people ever do, but most people wish to do — going on a quest to save your best friend. I can't ask for more than that for my son."

She kissed his nose and sniffled a little, going back to her kneading like nothing had ever happened.

"The bag is on the counter. Danny is saddled, and there's clothes for you in the saddlebag," she said, forming a little loaf of the dough with her hands without looking up.

"You knew I'd do it, didn't you?" he said, grinning in disbelief. His mother never ceased to amaze him.

"Of course I did, I'm your mother for a reason," she said with a mischievous grin not unlike his own.

He picked up the bag and swung it over his shoulder, wincing as he temporarily forgot the pain in his back.

"I love you, Ma," he said, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too, Fai. Now get, before your Da sees you," she said, swatting his arm with her dishtowel.

He quickly left, shaking his head. His family never had been one for sentimental moments.

Faidn was about to be off on his very own adventure.

* * *

"Ten minutes," the Lieutenant said, and closed the door solidly in Carvin's face.

Carvin, who had been about to ask that the Lieutenant show him what to do, closed his mouth. He glanced over at the indicated box, which reflected the firelight fiercely in its scaled sides. He looked back at the door once more, and he heard Ar and the other packing up to leave. With a sigh of frustration, he walked over to the box and opened it, not sure exactly what to expect.

The fairy's glow illuminated his surroundings with an eerie green. She was small, about the size of his hand, and her wrists and ankles were bolted to the box with rings of iron.

"Hello, Carvin," the shackled fairy whispered, the malice undisguised in her voice. "It's wonderful to finally see you."

"How do you know my name?" he asked, moving back slightly.

Though she was "completely contained" according to Ar, he didn't like the nasty smirk in her eyes.

"Why did you come here?" she asked, ignoring his question. "You humans don't bother with me unless you want me to identify people or lay a curse on your enemies."

"I've been having nightmares, daydreams," he started to say, unsure how to describe them. "It's like I'm haunted by a vision of my—friend, dead."

"She's more than a friend," the fiary said with a hollow laugh. "That's why I used her."

"You? I thought you were—"

"Contained? I am. I can't touch anyone from Ellespeth. You, however," she said, grinning, "are not from Ellespeth. And I needed your help, so I gave you nightmares in hopes that you would come to me. And here you are."

"Just take them away," Carvin said through gritted teeth.

The more the fairy spoke, the more his skin crawled in remembrance of the fairy in the West Wood. She laughed softly.

"Not unless you agree."

"I don't," he said flatly, reaching for the lid of the box to close it over her.

"Then the nightmares will continue for the rest of your life," the fairy said. "Even after I die."

That threat stayed his hand. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What is it?" he finally said.

"I can't tell you," she said. "But I can show you."

There was a long pause. Carvin was backed into a corner, and he knew it. He was sure he wouldn't like whatever the fairy was going to show him, but even now, images of Nre pale and cold were pushing on his eyes. He wouldn't be able to handle that much longer.

"Fine," he said, with too much force.

The fairy nodded; there were no more smiles. She closed her eyes, and suddenly everything went black.

* * *

Cameron, Nre, and Rose rode as much as possible for two solid days with still no sight of any town or city. They were very grateful for the extra water Rose had tossed into Nre's bag, with the sun beating down on them, but even that was beginning to run low after the second day. Cameron was beginning to regret following Karl's advice of riding south until they finally saw buildings in the distance halfway through the third day. They continued toward them, but every passing day brought with it an increasing fear of being caught.

They had no way of _knowing _whether they were being chased, but there was a feeling too persistent to be ignored, and it was creeping up on all of them. Rose spoke even less than usual, Nre jumped at every sound, and even Cameron constantly looked over his shoulder.

Someone was following them.

And they were catching up.

* * *

**And, Faidn has triumphantly returned to the story! I hope you enjoyed his little exchange. And what of Carvin and the fairy? Cam and Nre's chase?**

Mazzie**: "****Oh, yeah, Nre and Cameron. Forgot about them..." It's nice to know my **_**main characters**_** are so forgettable. —laugh— Oh, um, Nre isn't riding side-saddle. I mean, she can't. You need a special saddle to ride aside the horse. So she's just very awkwardly and uncomfortably riding astride the horse. I'm sure she's quite sore. Hah. And yes, I am a terrible person. Thanks for pointing that out. —sticks out tongue— Not just anyone can become a vampirate… but just anyone can become a ruthless purveyor of the law. XD Do be sensible.**

**Reviewers get a homemade fruit smoothie!**


	21. In Which Mel Sets Out On an Adventure

**14 . 5 . 11**

**Wow. My life has been a real whirlwind since the last update. It's been almost three months since I've posted anything — yikes. To anyone who's reading: I'm terribly sorry for the wait. Let me make it up to you. How about a double-feature? And if I get any reviews before the weekend is up, perhaps I'll update again. On Monday I head back to No-Internet Land, where I currently reside (unfortunately).**

**Anyway, I hope you all are having a great start to the summer / end of the school year (/ middle of the school year, if there are any of my beloved Kiwis reading this -grin-). Enjoy!**

* * *

Carvin closed the door behind him, then leaned on it heavily. There was too much to think about all at once. Images and snatches of visions came to mind and left again, confusing him and making it almost impossible to think. He shook his head and tried to decide what he needed to do.

_Find them. I have to find them, _he said. _And that's why I'm in the Vests, so I can find them. But will it be fast enough?_

It would have to be. He saddled his horse and was on his way to the port city of Taoh — his first stop — with Ar and the others within a half hour.

* * *

The tavern was painfully typical of an Ellespethian town. That was the first thing Karl noticed as he stepped into the place. It was respectably busy for the time of the evening — busty slave girls and quick slave boys cleared tables and took orders, while a few men sat at the bar drinking by themselves. There was a low hum of talking, interrupted from time to time by a laugh. The only differentiating factor was the tavern's cleanliness; Karl assumed Finnigan's wife had some say in how the tavern was run.

Karl absently scanned the crowd of pleasant faces, but once again saw nothing unremarkable. He bought his drink and sat, before a slave could show him to a table — a spotless corner table with a view of the whole bar had caught his eye. The person he was looking for would have to surface eventually. As an added bonus, the table was mostly hidden from view, just in case.

Sipping his drink, he observed the tavern from his excellent vantage point, listening in on a few conversations but always on the lookout for the boy. After about half an hour, Karl began to contemplate the best way to search the kitchens without attracting suspicion (leaning toward invisibility, if he could pull it off). He was starting to get paranoid that Iain would call him before he could get a hold of this—

_And there he is, right on time, _Karl thought, as the boy in question came through the doorway from the kitchen with a precariously stacked tray of food. He quickly handed it to a distracted waitress, narrowly missing another girl, and started back toward the kitchen.

"You, boy!" Karl said in a moderately loud voice, sending with it a spell for clarity.

The boy turned around, and Karl lifted his hand enough to draw the boy's attention. He walked up to Karl, nodding politely.

"Would you like another drink, sir?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Karl said. He was suddenly aware that he didn't sound fine; he sounded tired, and angry. The boy noticed, too, it seemed — his eyes narrowed slightly. Karl continued anyway. "I'd have a word with you, if you would oblige, Dannlin."

The boy's guard was up in a instant.

"How do you know my name, sir?" he asked warily. He took a step back.

"The same way I know you were a friend of Sarah's," Karl said smoothly. Dannlin's eyes narrowed further, and Karl could hear his thoughts start to race. "We need to discuss some things, about Sarah. Join me for a walk?" Karl's smile fell sour.

Dannlin was about to decline and slip away quickly — possibly to get some help — but Karl was faster. The boy soon felt something he could only describe as a fluid breeze encircle his neck. Instinctively, he reached for it, but nothing was there. It then tightened, constricting his airway slightly.

"Walk with me," Karl repeated, and this time it wasn't a question.

Dannlin drew breath to shout, but the breeze suddenly closed any passage and the shout was shoved uncomfortably back into his lungs. Completely unable to breathe, Dannlin nodded violently.

"Good," Karl said, and the breeze moved enough to let some air through. "Let's go outside, shall we?"

No one noticed the pair as they quickly left the tavern — and it took several hours before anyone realized that Dannlin did not return.

* * *

The trio was grateful to finally reach the city, and their fear of being caught was assuaged somewhat by the sheer number of people surrounding them wherever they went. As they approached the buildings that they had seen, it soon became apparent that what they had assumed was a town was actually more of a small city. They entered the city gate onto the main street, which was full of merchants with their wares. Nre and Cameron looked around desperately for an inn while Rose gazed at everything, eyes wide.

"A fresh roasted chicken's leg! Just the thing to ward off hunger 'til dinner!"

"Intricate pendants made by an esteemed goldsmith!"

"Nice firm quills in a variety of styles!"

"Hot blackberry pies! Your husband will think you've worked all day on it!"

"Fantastically woven handbags!"

"Birds that sing any song you name!" A lanky old man holding a swinging birdcage hollered his message, tugging on Rose's skirt. "Name a song, lass, any song!"

She shook her head, shrinking forward and holding onto Cameron tighter.

"_Take ye one and take ye all,_

_Up to the tavern of 'All in All'!_

_There rest your spirit and tell your tales,_

_You'll never fail to find a listener there!"_

The parrot in the cage perked up and started singing along with the faint sound of voices up ahead as the man moved on to solicit another person.

Rose and Nre looked around for the source of the singing, finally spotting a group of ten or fifteen boys cheerily singing as they turned the corner. The boys were standing in front of the tavern they were singing about — a well-painted sign indicated that the establishment was called the All in All. The boys sang loudly, and many passers-by sang along, chuckling and greeting the boys as they passed.

A few people tossed coins which the boys deftly caught and nodded their thanks.

Nre and Cameron traded strange looks — street bards were not uncommon in Berensia, but this group of singers didn't quite fit that description. It seemed that they were trying to attract customers to the tavern. Cameron thought it was an interesting practice, albeit a strange one.

Nre was soon distracted by a small crowd of children dressed in bright colors and twirling ribbons around a sign indicating that a troupe of gypsies was staying on the outskirts of the city and selling its wares. She opened her mouth to ask Cameron if they could stop, but the look on his face made her close her mouth again. He looked far too hassled and paranoid at the moment to suggest it, so she tucked it away and planned to ask him after they were safely in an inn.

Cameron was just relieved to find an inn that they could stay at with some more of the money from Karl's bag and get off the street. Although the nagging feeling of danger was less than it had been on the open road, he couldn't shake it from his mind. Nre was completely taken with the city, and she begged to stay a few hours the next morning to look around.

"We'll be perfectly safe, surrounded by all these people. We don't stick out at all," she pleaded. "And I really want to see the gypsies!"

He finally agreed to stay for a little while, though with many misgivings. After they ate dinner, they went almost instantly to sleep, happy to be sleeping on something other than rocks and dirt, though Rose and Nre still slept on the floor to avoid suspicion.

Cameron made sure the door was locked securely, and he still slept with dark images in his mind, waking at every sound.

* * *

Faidn stopped Danny just before the forest's edge. The sun was shining brightly, but the trees still looked ominous and dark. He'd gathered news in bits and pieces as he passed through the towns between his home and the West Wood, and saying that the kingdom was in an uproar was no exaggeration. With Princess Nre and Prince Cameron going missing (suspected kidnapping) followed closely by the disappearance of the Princess' fiance, and all three of them last seen by the West Wood — things were looking grim for all the magic workers in Berensia. The West Wood was well-known for its magical inhabitants, and the King and Queen were taking no chances. All the wizards and fairies that could be found were brought to the castle for questioning, making the whole country even more leery of magic than they were normally.

This, sad to say, included Faidn as well.

He gulped as he looked at the dark trees, remembering the creepy stories of his childhood, and the ones that had been recounted to him on his way there. Fairies were allegedly more vengeful than usual, setting barns on fire and loosing livestock.

"Don't be silly, Fai," he said to himself. "All those stories of fairies and hobgoblins aren't true. They're all stories."

He paused.

"Well, the old ones are just stories, anyway. And probably half of the new ones. Carvin just got lost in the woods. …And so did Cameron and Nre."

He paused again, and looked at the horse for help. It snorted.

"Okay, maybe not. Not Vin, anyway, I know he could find his way out of any wood."

The trees moved in front of him, the light breeze rustling their leaves. It looked like they were nudging each other and laughing. He shook his head to clear it; he was thinking crazy things. That lady at the inn had really gotten his imagination going.

"Well, there's only one way to find out what happened to them, isn't there?" he asked Danny, scratching its ear. "I've got to ask whatever lives in there if they've seen any of the three."

The horse snorted again when Faidn stopped scratching its ear, and Faidn rolled his eyes and resumed.

"There _have_ been search parties in there, but they were just looking for Cameron and Nre, weren't they? They weren't seeking out the local inhabitants — the only people that would really know."

He nodded decisively. Fairies-shmairies. They couldn't be as bad as all that.

"Let's go."

He urged his mount forward, but stopped it again a moment before they entered the trees.

"Hey, if we get separated, go back home, alright? Are you smart enough to do that? Da'll kill me if I lose you."

The horse's ear twitched.

"That'll have to do," Faidn sighed. "Come on, then."

_Welcome, friend of the soldier..._

* * *

The journey to Molln was uneventful, though Gloria and Thomas were too busy worrying about Nre and Cameron's safety to be properly worried about their own. Thomas had refused to take a carriage, insisting that speed was of dire importance on this mission, so the royals' two bodyguards trailed them, also on horseback. The party of four horsemen raised a few eyebrows along their ride, but the bodyguards' frosty stares were enough to make the people's eyes turn back to their own business.

Five days of hard riding brought them to the Mollnian palace, which was situated on the plain, a modest distance from the river. They were received with some surprise, as Thomas' brief letter stating their arrival had only reached the palace some hours before the party.

"I'm sure you can understand why we mightn't want to delay," Gloria said, shaking hands with King Fraylish firmly. "With Prince Cameron and Nre missing—"

"Of course, of course," the king said, letting go of Gloria's hand and clasping Thomas'. "I understand entirely."

He made no further comment on the matter, and neither did either of the Berensian royalty, but the gravity showed in his eyes. They began walking inside the palace as Fraylish continued.

"I'm kicking myself a hundred times over for not investigating this man further," he said, leading them to a comfortable sitting room. "You of course have access to any of my resources — men, horses, food. Name it, and it's yours."

"We have reason to believe that this wizard intends harm to at least Cameron and Nre," Thomas started, sitting in the chair closest to the window. Outside, the river flowed by peacefully. "I suspect he also has plans to harm others, judging by our informant's actions and desperation."

"Because of this, we will need a battalion of soldiers, preferably those with at least some knowledge of magic," Gloria continued. "If we aren't too late, we will have to battle an angry wizard."

"That will take some time," Fraylish said slowly. "My soldiers skilled against magic are currently spread across Molln, and there are even a few in Sanjado, helping to calm a dragon scare in the mountains there. I will send word to have them return as quickly as possible, but the soonest I can guarantee that they will be assembled is five days."

Gloria and Thomas looked at each other. They were both thinking the same thing: _Is there enough time?_

"That is a long delay," Thomas finally said. "But I don't think we can afford to go without them. Gloria?"

"We can't," she admitted, though the words tasted bitter as they left her mouth. "We don't stand a chance against a wizard unless the soldiers are prepared to deal with magic."

"Then I will send messages out immediately with my fastest messengers," Fraylish said, pulling some parchment out of his pocket and walking over to the desk by the entrance to the room.

He called for a servant as he wrote the messages, and the summons were on their way in minutes. That left Thomas and Gloria with nothing else to do but freshen up after their journey, then wait. A servant showed them to the guest suite, where Thomas then graciously allowed Gloria to bathe first.

"You really don't think we can go with the regular soldiers, do you?" Gloria shouted through the door as she sponged her hair dry. Her voice echoed painfully on the tiled floors and walls.

"Definitely not," Thomas replied. "It would be a suicide run."

"Just checking," she sighed. "I hate not doing anything."

"I know," Thomas replied.

Gloria looked around, then realized she hadn't brought her change of clothes into the bathroom.

"Uh, Thomas, could you hand me a dress from the bag?" she asked, wrapping her towel around herself and pushing a dripping curl of hair out of her face.

"Hm? Oh, alright," Thomas said.

She heard him get up from the chair with a soft groan and rummage around in the bag they had brought for a minute before he knocked softly on the door. She opened it enough to take the dress, then closed again as she began to pull it on.

"Do you think there's anything else we can do?" she asked. "Would there be any wizards willing to help us, do you think?"

"I doubt it," Thomas said reluctantly. "They don't often like to fight each other; it ends up killing a lot of innocent people, usually. You know that."

"What about other magical beings? Naiads? Dryads? Fairies?" she pressed, bending her arms in all sorts of unnatural positions as she attempted to button the back of her dress. _And this is the simplest dress I own, _she lamented with a grunt. Her wet fingers slid against the button.

"They don't like to get involved in human affairs," Thomas was saying. When Gloria didn't respond right away, he added, "Are you alright?"

"These blasted buttons," came Gloria's solitary reply. She grunted again, and the button slipped free of her grip. "Lands!" she muttered, manipulating her arms and biting the edge of her tongue as she tried to find the button again. Her reflection in the mirror in front of her was ridiculous.

"Do you … need help?" Thomas asked hesitantly.

Gloria didn't answer right away; she found the button and tried again to fit it through the hole in the fabric, but it eluded her grip once more.

"Actually, yes," Gloria said, defeated.

Thomas slowly opened the bathroom door, wary of hitting his wife, then saw the source of the frustration immediately.

"They didn't exactly make these easy to do single-handedly, did they?" he said, easily fastening the buttons Gloria had struggled so furiously against.

He looked over her shoulder into the mirror and smiled at his wife. Gloria made a face.

"No, they don't," she said.

Thomas buttoned the last button, then inhaled slowly. The light smell of irises wafted from her hair.

"Thank you," she said, smiling slightly at him. "I'll leave you to bathe, then."

"You're welcome," he said, smiling back.

Gloria left the bathroom shaking her head.

* * *

When Karl didn't show his face at her home that evening — like he had promised — Mel was slightly affronted, but didn't think too much of it. She did rather like Karl, but she knew enough of his reputation to know that he didn't take women or relationships very seriously. She then put him out of her mind as a chance that could have been but wasn't, and moved on to bigger and better things.

She took to scouring the wood for any remaining search parties still looking for the Prince and Princess, and she found a great source of amusement in scaring the daylights out of them. After the embarrassing stint with Carvin, she decided not to try her luck with kisses for a little while, but there were plenty of other ways to drive a man mad with confusion and fright.

It wasn't until a week had passed with still no sign of Karl whatsoever that she began to get suspicious. A quick survey of her friends verified that the fiari hadn't been seen since the day he'd kissed her in the hallway and vanished. It wasn't like fiari to be gone this long from the Wood. Something must have happened with his master.

She remembered the look in his eye that afternoon, like he was trying to enjoy one of the last things he was ever going to do, and the way he avoided her questions.

It was then that she decided to go after him, come what may.

"His name is Karl," she repeated for the sixtieth time that evening.

She'd finagled her way into a party with a bunch of old, powerful fairies in hopes that one of them might know who Karl's master was so she could find him. The only problem was that, though rich in magic, the fairies were still quite forgetful.

"You know— black hair, charming smile, devil-may-care attitude?" she continued. "There's only one fiari like him, I'm sure of it, and you _must _have met him at some point."

The old fairy blinked slowly, opened his mouth, and then stroked the tip of his golden cane.

"Hummm. Karl. He likes the women, yes?"

"Very much," Mel emphasized.

"Ah, yes," the fairy remembered. "I know him."

"Do you know who his master is?"

"It's hard to keep track of these days, with all the changing around…"

"Come on," Mel pleaded. "You see connections in people. If you've seen Karl, you have to know who his master was."

"If I recall correctly, it was a wizard," the man said, furrowing his brow as he tried to remember. "Not from Berensia, but nearby… Molln, I think."

"His name," Mel pressed. "I need a name."

"What's in it for me, you uppity female?" the man said, crossing his arms. "I usually charge a hefty price for connections."

"Name your charge," Mel said steadfastly.

"What's your magic?" the man asked. "Then I'll decide."

"Blessings," she said.

"Ah," the man said with a smile. "That'll do nicely. Bless me with long life."

"Greedy curmudgeon," Mel muttered under her breath, but she took the man's face in her hands and gently kissed his forehead.

"Iain," the man said with a smile. "I think he lives along the coast."

"Thank you," she said, curtsying politely before taking her leave of the crowded room.

She flew back to her chamber and quickly changed clothes, preparing to set off for Molln. She considered the advice of some of her friends as she pulled on her traveling attire.

"He's not worth it," one had said.

"His master must have finally gotten smart and kept Karl around so he wouldn't do anything to get him into trouble," another had wisely commented.

"Leave him," another friend advised. "If he's that interested in you, he'll come back and find you. Don't go after him — you'll look desperate."

Mel, however, threw everyone's advice out the window and set off toward the west. Something fishy was happening, and Mel wasn't about to let herself be left out of it. She thrived on sticky situations, and if this situation had managed to ensnare one of the most famously slippery fiari in the Kingdom, it was definitely worth checking out.

* * *

**What do you think Karl's up to? Any opinions on our favorite pair of unhappy monarchs? Or Mel's desire to take off an adventure — that might end up being more than she bargained for?**

Eva**: Well, I'm sorry for the late chapter! Hah. I'm glad you enjoyed the expanded scene — I had fun with it. Hmm, Arvid with his own story? Hmm… We shall see. -grin- Hah, I am glad you like Karl so much; someone needs to love him when he's being a bit of a mysterious jerk. Aw, your reference to Jab made me grin. It's quite the thought, isn't it? Yikes. I hope you were not so upset by the lack of Gloria and Thomas in the next two chapters that you decided not to review on them at all. -laugh- There was no room for that section until this chapter — what do you think of their support of one another now? -smile-**

Lady Thorne**: Faidn is one of my favorites too — it was the reviews that made me bring him back around last time, and I'm so glad I did. He adds a lot to the story. Poor Karl, indeed. :-( And yeah, the fairy might have shown him something useful… but also scary!**

Mazzie**: You are making me sad. Forgetting about all my characters. :-( But I guess if I updated more often this might be less of a problem, haha. Vampirate-fairy? Yikes. How many different supernatural character prototypes would you like to combine? -chuckle-**

Healed**: Hey! Welcome to the story! Sorry you caught me during such a rough time — that it took so long to update. I feel honored that you connected with my characters so well! I hope you can remember them now after all this time. -smile-**

**Reviewers get a slice of blackberry pie!**


	22. In Which There Is a Fair

**14 . 5 . 11**

**And here's the second part of my Apologizing For My Lateness present. -grin- Enjoy! Have a great day!**

* * *

Cameron was the first up the next morning; he woke up when the sun came over the horizon and tickled his eyelids. He soon woke Rose and Nre, and they ate a quick breakfast, while Cameron tried to convince Nre that the gypsies wouldn't be that interesting. He was worried that they would be caught by their pursuers, and Nre thought he was being completely paranoid. After a heated argument, which included Rose trying to disappear into her bowl of oatmeal, Cameron finally gave up and agreed to see the gypsies — but not for very long. Nre sighed and rolled her eyes, but dragged him from the table playfully nonetheless. They then left on foot to find the gypsies.

"Stay close to me," Cameron said, looking around warily; every face in the crowded city seemed to be frowning at them. "I don't want anything to happen to you if you wander off."

Nre tapped the back of his head.

"I'm over here, Cam. What are you looking at?"

She followed his gaze to a shifty-looking sailor who was glaring back at him.

"Nothing, sorry," he said, looking back at Nre. "Please be quick. I want to get out of here before lunch."

"That's not a lot of time," Nre said regretfully, "but I suppose even a bustling city won't hide us forever. Let's not waste time, then. Where's that sign I saw yesterday…"

It was almost impossible to see the sides of the roads, as the streets were suddenly flooded with slaves carrying wares and laughing. A large caravan must have just pulled in.

"This way, I think," Rose said suddenly, pointing to a side road.

On that road, a makeshift sign was propped against one of the buildings, and Nre recognized it as the gypsies' sign.

"That's it! Good eye, Rose!" Nre congratulated.

Rose smiled and ducked her head.

The closer they got the gypsies, the more the town began to look like a fairground. Tents were set up everywhere, the brightly colored ones boasting sword eaters and snake charmers, while the more drab ones further out of the way housed families.

Strangely dressed gypsy mothers laughed and talked with other gypsies while half dressed children ran unheeded around in the empty space. They narrowly avoided the townsfolk on several occasions and got scolded harshly by the mothers for "disturbing the nice people".

"Those children aren't very safe," Cameron observed with a frown.

"What would anyone want with a gypsy child, my lord?" Rose asked softly.

"What do you mean?" Nre asked.

"Gypsies, milady, are only just better than slaves. They are only entertainment."

"Oh," Cameron said, thinking about that.

"Why?" Nre asked.

"I—I don't know. That's the way it's always been," Rose said, looking nervous that she couldn't answer the question.

"Fortune teller, lucky charms!" Cameron heard the sweet voice of a young girl among the laughing and talking of the crowd.

"Where did that come from?" he said, looking around.

"Where did what come from?" Nre said.

"I heard a girl..."

"Oh, isn't she cute!" Nre said suddenly, pointing to a lithe young girl, twirling ribbons expertly in front of a tent. "She can't be more than nine, and she _has _a way with those ribbons!"

"Fortunes!" the girl called, and Cameron was startled to see it was the ribbon girl who was calling. The voice had seemed closer than that.

The girl caught Cameron's eye and beamed, nodding her head slightly. She threw several ribbons in the air, catching them all one at a time before they hit the ground.

"Madame Fainie can tell any fortune!" she declared, looking back at Cameron and raising her eyebrows, as if to ask why he wasn't there yet.

"Fortunes?" Nre said with interest.

"I'm sure the crazy old woman makes them up," Cameron said, looking away from the girl. "Come on, I hear music. Let's go this way."

Nre shrugged and obliged, following Cameron and Rose over to a smaller tent. Cameron glanced back at the girl before they entered, and she stopped twirling for a moment to look at him seriously, her dark eyes holding his. Then, she began twirling again, though her smile was all but gone.

They slipped into the tent as the current performer left the stage to the audience's applause. When the audience finished clapping, a young woman strode onto the stage, carrying a long and narrow silken bag.

She stopped when she reached center stage, but the bag kept wriggling. She reached into the bag and pulled a slender wooden flute from it. It seemed to struggle, bending and shaking, emitting clearly distressed breathy notes.

"A living flute?" Nre whispered incredulously.

Cameron stared at it in disbelief, but Rose was unfazed.

"The magic makes it come alive," she said, by way of explanation, when she saw the looks on their faces. "The woman must be part fairy."

The woman on the stage held the instrument tightly, holding it up to her lips and whispering something they couldn't hear while stroking it with her thumb. After a few seconds, the flute calmed and lay still, waiting for the song to begin.

She began, and as she played, impossibly fast trills or notes held far too long indicated that the flute was helping. Every so often it wiggled again, but it was dancing this time, and the woman merely accommodated to it by dipping it lower or moving her body. It was a splendid performance.

When the song ended, the woman bowed and the audience clapped heartily. She then slipped the flute back into the bag and walked off.

They watched a magical harpist and pan flute before Nre said they should look at everything else. They saw a fire eater, a sword eater, and a snake charmer before Cameron insisted that they turn back.

"We need to start traveling," he said flatly, looking over his shoulder. Something was making him uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure what.

"You worry too much," Nre pouted, but one look at his clenched jaw stoppered her further argument.

As they walked along the road on their way out, they passed the girl again.

"Fortunes! Fortunes! Lucky charms!" she called, then saw Cameron and smiled brightly again.

"Oh, let's do it, Cam. Please?" Nre said hopefully.

Cameron, who couldn't look away from the girl, shook his head slowly and started to speak.

"I have a bad fee—"

"You really do sound like Lois!" Nre cried, jumping on his moment of weakness. "What could it hurt?"

"I—"

"Nothing, that's what. Come on."

She looped her arm through his and led him to the tent, Rose following close behind. The little girl's eyes lit up as they approached.

She dropped her ribbons and took Cameron and Nre's hands, kissing them both.

"Welcome, welcome, majesties," she whispered in awe. "And their loyal companion. Come, Madame Fainie was hoping you would arrive."

"How do you know who we are?" Cameron asked her, instantly on his guard. He looked over her shoulder, but saw no sign of their pursuers — just the inside of a tent.

"Madame Fainie told me who you were," the girl said, unable to take her eyes off the two of them. "From the other side of the country. Why are you so far from home?"

"I don't like this," Cameron said, putting his hand on Nre's arm and taking a step back.

"No, please," the girl begged, taking Cameron's hand. "Please see her. She's been waiting for you."

Something about the girl's eyes, and the way Nre was whispering in his ear made him relent, against his better judgment.

The girl led the three further into the tent, pushing aside a cloth barrier to reveal a surprisingly spacious room with a beautiful young woman. She was dressed in the gypsy fashion, though with perhaps more bangles. Her dark hair was thick and long, alternatingly knotted or curled, with gold ornaments strewn throughout it. It was hard to look her in the eyes; her hair distracted their gaze as it practically shone with gold, in chains and charms and braids.

The girl left, letting the cloth fall back and leaving them with her.

"Prince Cameron of Grendath, Princess Nre of Berensia, Miss Rose of Ellespeth," she said, nodding to each in turn.

Rose looked up at her in surprise when she was addressed, but didn't say anything.

As the woman nodded, the charms hanging on golden chains from her intricately woven hair jingled faintly against each other.

"My liege, give me your palm," she said at once, holding out a slender hand to Cameron, her long nails brightly colored.

"Go on," Nre said when he hesitated. "I want to see what she has to say about you."

Cameron gave her a longsuffering look, then held his hand out to the gypsy woman. As soon as her fingers touched his palm, she jerked her hand back and flashed a look at him, looking closely in his eyes.

"Well?" Cameron said, pulling his hand back a little.

She reached for his hand again, and her fingers wrapped around it instantly, but her eyes never left his.

"Spells around you, so many spells," she muttered, squinting at his eyes. Her fingers spidered over his palm. "What are you hiding from?"

And then her fingers froze. Her eyes weren't focused on him anymore, but on something past his head. Her fingers shifted slightly, as if searching for an answer in his hand.

"Someone is following you," she said, "They're here in the city, and they're practically upon you. You're about to be found. Run."

There was a silence. Shouts and laughter from outside could be heard through the tent wall, muted and muffled. It was as if the world had suddenly slowed down.

Then, they all heard something that might have been a scream, though it was hard to tell. They all snapped into action. Cameron wasn't terribly convinced of the gypsy's abilities, but that was far too specific a direction to just be a fairground trick. The fact that she knew their names was enough to convince Nre.

"Thank you," Nre murmured hurriedly as Cameron stood and left, Rose directly behind him.

"Go," Madame Fainie pressed, ushering the small girl inside as they left and closing the tent door. She watched them leave with some apprehension, then laced the door shut, ignoring the girl's questions about why she had to stop dancing.

They rushed back to the inn with their heads down, Cameron looking everywhere for anyone that might be following them. Every face became frightening as their anxiety mounted; Rose looped her arm through Nre's and practically dragged her through the crowd, ducking and weaving through the gaps like she'd been doing it all her life — Nre reflected that she probably had been. Once at the inn, they quickly packed their belongings and payed the innkeeper as they left.

Cameron thought the man had looked at them for a moment longer than propriety called for, but perhaps he was imagining things.

Cameron and Rose saddled the horses as fast as they could, earning a few funny looks from the other men in the stables, since Nre was standing there doing nothing while her master saddled the horse — but they couldn't afford to waste any time. Rose finished saddling her horse in record time and, after fumbling with the stirrups three times, Cameron finally managed to finish saddling his. He helped Nre and Rose to mount, then led the horses to the door and opened it before swinging onto Rose's horse and nudging it toward the road.

Nre clumsily kneed her horse forward and was pleased when it followed Cameron's horse obediently. That may have had more to do with the fact that that's all the horse had been doing for days, but Nre took it as a sign that her horsemanship skills were improving. At least slightly.

When they reached the road, they started toward the far gate.

"Wait!" someone called behind them.

Automatically, Cameron turned around, then whipped back around to face front.

"Go!" he said to Nre, kicking the horse into a trot and avoiding peasants.

"C'mon Acey!" Rose called as Nre kicked her horse, urging it to follow Cameron's.

Rose looked behind Nre and her eyes grew wide. Three riders on a massive black stallion were following them, now at a trot as well.

"Faster! Go faster!" Cameron shouted to Nre as she fell behind.

"Acey! Come on!" Rose called.

"Ace, trot," Nre pleaded, digging her knees into the horse's sides.

The horse trotted faster, then broke into a canter, narrowly avoiding a fruit cart. Cameron urged his into a canter too, then before they realized it, they were galloping. People were shouting and stumbling out of the way just in time, yelling angrily at them to slow down. Hooves pounding the packed dirt road, they skidded around corners and squeezed between carts, but the black horse was still gaining on them. It was all Nre could do just to hang on.

"Nre!" Rose shouted at the same time as Nre yelled Cameron's name.

He snapped his head back and saw that the black horse was almost running side by side with Nre, and one of the riders was reaching out to her. He yanked the reins, falling back and getting between Nre and the black horse.

"Go!" he shouted at Nre, drawing his sword and turning to face the black horse.

Rose screamed.

"My lord!" yelped the first rider, his longish hair dangling into his eyes as he tried to watch the road and Cameron at the same time. Dannlin.

"Cameron, put that away," the second rider said, turning to face Cameron.

Cameron almost dropped his sword as he realized who it was: Carvin.

"Carvin?" Nre said; she hadn't gotten far trying to run away without following Cameron's horse.

"We're making a scene," the third rider hissed, and Cameron almost dropped his sword again when he saw that it was _Sarah._

He quickly sheathed his sword and looked around; people were looking at them curiously. Cameron summoned an apologetic grin.

"Old friends, sorry, we weren't expecting them here."

Most rolled their eyes and kept working, but a few men and boys looked in awe at the black horse.

"Let's get out of here," Cameron said in a low voice. "Then we can talk."

They continued in silence out the gate. Only when they were far clear of the city did they dismount so they could lead the horses and talk better. As soon as Sarah, Carvin, and Dannlin slid off the black horse, it began to flicker and shift, and suddenly it was replaced with the form of a man.

"Karl!" Nre cried, her eyes widening in a combination of surprise and relief.

"Glad to see your eyes are working," he quipped, but the phrase, which sounded like something that was meant to be a tease, fell flat when he grimaced and clenched his fist in apparent pain.

Cameron noticed that he seemed to be struggling to even keep his feet, and he looked much too pale. He quickly steadied Karl, and the man took a breath, then talked very quickly. Nre almost didn't catch everything he said.

"Flee to the port city, further south of here. I'll make the journey shorter, but that's all I can do. There will be a boat in port to take you east — all of you; the slaves will be killed for running if they are caught in Ellespeth. Go, as fast as you can, back to Berensia, and you might outrun him."

The last word had barely left his mouth when they heard the sound of something beginning to rip, and he vanished with a cut-off cry of pain. Everyone stood, looking around nervously for a moment, before Cameron spoke, gathering the reins of his horse and starting down the path.

"Well, unless anyone has a better plan, let's head to port."

No one replied, but they all started reluctantly down the road, glancing at each other curiously.

"Since we only have two horses, I suppose we'll have to walk," Nre said, just to say something. It was still uncomfortably silent. Carvin was looking hard at Cameron, who barely seemed to notice.

"Would anyone like to explain why Sarah is still in the land of the living?" Cameron finally asked.

Everyone fell into step behind Cameron's long strides, the horses relieved to be free of their burdens for a while. Sarah walked next to Cameron, explaining what had happened to her, and Carvin came beside Nre, who was curiously listening to the tale.

"—tried to strangle me, my liege, but I suppose I passed out before he managed to kill me properly. And then when I woke up, I was in a locked room with Dannlin, and Lord Carvin came along soon after. Then Karl came and told us all that someone was chasing us, and we had to get out of town. He magicked himself into a horse before we could ask any questions, and we were thundering toward Gannon after your majesties like the devil himself was chasing us."

"How did—" Nre started, but Carvin answered her question before she could finish asking it.

"I told them who you really were," he said. "Somewhat by accident. I didn't realize you were going by different names here."

"Speaking of you, what _are_ you doing here?" Nre asked Carvin, turning toward him.

Carvin's heart flip-flopped when her sparkling eyes connected with his for the first time in weeks.

"I was—following you," he stumbled. "The whole kingdom is in an uproar; no one knows if you're dead or alive. I had to do something."

"And you somehow ran into Karl?" she questioned skeptically.

"Believe it or not," he said with a shrug. "I was just patrolling that town when he—"

"Patrolling?" Nre interrupted. "What does that mean?"

"I signed on to the Vests there for a while," Carvin said with a wry grin. "It was the only way I could think of to get around the country safely, looking for you. But then I ran into Karl, since he was running about after curfew, and he told me he knew where you were."

"And you just believed him?" Cameron interjected.

Carvin looked like he wanted to say something, but then he closed his mouth and shrugged.

"Yeah."

Cameron snorted; Nre rolled her eyes. Carvin involuntarily winced at Nre siding with Cameron's scorn. But he couldn't tell her everything — not now.

"Now that you've found us, what's your glorious plan to rescue us?" Nre asked Carvin. "In case you haven't heard, we're on the run."

"Get you back to Berensia, of course," Carvin said. "Preferably without being caught by whomever it is that's chasing you. Who _is _chasing you, anyhow?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Cameron said. "Some kind of wizard bent on stealing our wishes is my best guess."

"Your … wishes?" Carvin asked slowly.

The rest of the hour was filled with lively chatter as each member of the party filled the rest of the people in on what they knew. This included a homesick description of Berensia given by Nre (when it was discovered that Sarah, Rose, and Dannlin had never heard of the country) and the opening of a pack Karl had left with Dannlin, which held food enough for a meal for them all, and some extra waterskins. Carvin was also called upon to share his encounter with the fairy in the West Wood, though Nre had a feeling he had abbreviated it slightly for one reason or another.

Despite the fact that they were walking, the ground passed swiftly beneath their feet. Cameron once again whispered his thanks to Karl (as if the man could hear him) and hoped that the fairy was right about the boat. The sooner they got away from Ellespeth, the better.

* * *

"Where did they _go?" _Iain shouted, clenching his fists and glaring at the fiari in front of him.

Karl remained mute, refusing to let even a word escape his lips. He was shaking, and he looked extraordinarily pale; Iain assumed it was because he had been fighting his bond-magic so much, and he would eventually break.

"Tell me, Karl. Six people do not vanish from a city without a trace. I know you were involved."

Karl stared right back at Iain, his eyes black and furious.

"You _will _tell me," Iain growled, leaning further forward. "I'll see to that."

He spun a spell between his fingers, noting with satisfaction that Karl's eyes flickered to it with some apprehension. Karl couldn't fight his bonds and Iain at the same time, and they both knew it.

* * *

**Now [almost] everyone is back together again! Thoughts? How did you like the fair? And what about poor old Karl?**


	23. In Which a Sandwich Is Saved

**24 . 5 . 11**

**Hello again! I ran out of brainpower last weekend and forgot to upload a new chapter. So, I'm going to try to upload it on this crotchety old internet I've found. Hopefully it'll work!**

* * *

"Need help?"

Gloria recognized teasing when she heard it, but she sent Thomas a glare anyway. She pulled herself up onto the horse tenderly, still not quite recovered from their wild ride to Molln almost a week earlier. The ride to the coast, however, wouldn't be nearly as strenuous. Since they were traveling with so many others, they would have to go slower.

She pulled her horse alongside Thomas', and together they watched the rest of the soldiers mounting their horses and double-checking their packs for necessities. The general of the Mollnian army, a man named Joab Henchfeld, was shouting at the slower ones to pick up the pace.

"It's a two-day ride down to the coast," he yelled, "and we have no time to waste! I want ranks in four minutes, soldiers!"

"Where would you like us in the group?" Thomas called to the general.

General Henchfeld rode closer to them, bowing his head deeply.

"King Thomas, Queen Gloria," he said deferentially. "I really must advise—"

"We heard your advice through King Fraylish," Thomas interrupted. His voice was strong. The queen and I cannot simply remain behind and send all your soldiers on a mission that could cost them their lives."

"My liege, with all respect, that is exactly the reason you should stay here," General Henchfeld said carefully, bowing his head again. "This is dangerous situation."

"The king's job has never been a safe one, and neither has a father's," Thomas said.

"As you please, my king," the general said. "Please stay in the middle of the ranks, then."

The soldiers were already in their ranks, but they moved aside as Thomas and Gloria approached them, bowing and muttering respectful statements. The soldiers in the middle of the formation made room for Thomas and Gloria in the center, and they were soon riding south.

They drove their horses on at a quick walk, and it didn't take long for Gloria to grow tired of the scenery. Molln had many more hills than Berensia did, though as they continued south the terrain grew drier and less green. She wondered again if Cameron and Nre were safe. She hoped dearly that this wizard hadn't found them yet, that the Mollnian soldiers could stop the man's awful plan, whatever it was, before he committed it.

She bit her lip as she thought of Nre and Cameron, wherever they were. Were they being chased? Were they sick? Were they getting anything to eat? Karl had said they were safe, but that was weeks ago. Anything could have happened between then and now, and Karl hadn't sent them any more messages. Judging by the haste of his last message, Gloria had to worry about the mysterious messenger, too. Had the wizard found out about his messages to them? She shuddered at the thought.

_Nothing to do except ride on_, she thought, trying to get her mind focused on better things. _At least Thomas knows something about magic. As long as we can get there in time._

She looked over at Thomas. His eyes were fixed on the crest of the hill in front of them; his body was relaxed, but ready.

_We'll get there in time._

* * *

While they traveled, Nre stuck mostly by Cameron's side, leaving Carvin to mingle with the others. Though he couldn't help sneaking glances every now and again, Carvin found himself laughing and joking with Sarah and Dannlin, who were both very teasing and clever once they warmed up from the "Lord Carvin" business and began treating him like an equal. He soon found that Dannlin was an almost obnoxiously die-hard optimist, with a keen eye to tease any of the three girls whenever he was given an opportunity.

Sarah threw Dannlin's remarks right back at him without blinking an eye, though she'd never start anything unless provoked. Rose was still so silent it was easy to forget that she was there, though she talked a bit more with Sarah there. It was plain to see that she looked up to Sarah like a big sister.

Though the three seemed to be fast friends, they were all markedly different in appearance. From Dannlin's strawberry-blonde hair to Rose's dark hair, and Dannlin's gangly build to Sarah's shorter, stockier one, Carvin was not in danger of mixing any of them up.

They came upon the port city at nightfall, long after the docks had closed for the night. After some deliberation and much anxiety, Cameron used the rest of Karl's money to book two rooms at the most reputable-looking inn, and they all went quickly to bed.

This time, Cameron wasn't the only one jumping at every sound. He and Carvin kept wordless vigils through the night, daggers at hand — just in case.

* * *

The group awoke well before the sun the next morning, which disgruntled the cook, who had to hurry to prepare their breakfasts. Cameron and Carvin were on edge, looking up quickly whenever there were footsteps outside or a clang from the kitchen. The others, however, seemed to have forgotten the danger for a little while.

"When I close my eyes, all I see is people, people, people," Sarah moaned, dropping her head onto the table.

"Well, at least there's something in there, then," Dannlin commented.

Sarah glared at him and Rose chuckled in spite of herself.

"And you, Lady Roseflower," Dannlin said, turning to Rose. "What, pray, do you find so amusing about the misfortunes of others, hm?"

"Food!" Nre said thankfully, distracting them all to watch the cook walk toward them with a platter of food. "Ah, mash," she said, noting the small pot in the middle of the tray. "I haven't had mash in ages."

"Hopefully it won't be too much longer before we have it again, and better," Cameron said, sliding the tray to the middle of the circular table.

"Mash, eggs, bacon, potato soup, fresh made raspberry pie, strawberry tarts, cheesy eggbread," Nre mused.

"Oh, stop," Carvin complained. "you'll make this food taste bad!"

"I'm so hungry I don't think that's possible," Dannlin said, ladling a bowl of oatmeal for himself and grabbing a handful of fresh fruits.

"How exactly are we going to find the boat Karl mentioned?" Sarah asked, chewing thoughtfully on an apple.

"Let's split up and search the docks for ships heading our direction," Carvin decided.

"Why split up?" Cameron asked, tone friendly but eyes hinting at a challenge. "Shouldn't we stay together, for safety?"

"But we need to get out of here as soon as possible," Carvin explained, meeting Cameron's eyes unflinchingly. "It will take half the time to find the boat if we split up, and we might be able to be on our way this afternoon instead of waiting another day for them to find us."

Cameron nodded in begrudging agreement.

"I'll go with Nre and Dannlin, and you can take Sarah and Rose," Cameron then said.

"Makes no nevermind to me," Carvin said with a shrug, though his eyes lingered on Nre for a moment, "as long as we're in different groups — if something happens, we're the only two who have weapons we can use. We'll start on the north side of the wharf."

"Well then, if everyone's finished," Cameron said, standing, "let's head out. We'll take the south side. Meet back here in two hours, whether you've found the boat or not. Let's hope we don't run into any trouble."

After they left, the cook was irked to find that the party had barely eaten anything.

"All that work for nothing," she grumbled as she cleaned a barely-touched oatmeal bowl from the table. "Ungrateful bunch of no-gooders."

* * *

"The port," Iain hissed.

Karl flinched as more magic flooded his veins — foreign magic.

"You thought you could make them invisible forever, fiari? Pathetic. My men will be on them by dawn, make no mistake. Even if they have to tear down every inn in the city."

Karl still didn't say anything, still shaking slightly from Iain's attacks.

"And what of that other boy — Carvin? Did you think I wouldn't put two and two together and realize it was _him _you were shielding from me?"

Karl didn't move. He focused on the sound of the sea outside the window, letting it lull him into a false sense of peace.

But then Iain was dragging Karl to his feet, and their faces were now only inches apart.

"What did the fairy show him?"

His question hit Karl's face with the force of a spell he couldn't deny, but still, he denied it. His jaw was clenched so hard, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to move it again. It took all of his concentration and most of his magic to keep himself from answering the question, from ruining everything.

"Tell me!" Iain said, shaking him.

Karl would have fallen back, knocked from his balance, but Iain was holding him upright. "Tell me, or I shall take the memory from you!"

"I don't know!" Karl shouted, loosing his words in a lie for one anguished moment, then bottling them tightly again, feeling all the more drained for his outburst.

"Liar," Iain said instantly. "You must know, else you wouldn't be protecting him. He knows something that you _believe _is going to stop me, doesn't he?"

Karl swayed, trying to focus on the sea.

"Enough of this," Iain said, voice suddenly cool; it made Karl's skin crawl with its calmness. "I will see for myself."

Iain closed his eyes, and Karl, realizing what was happening, pushed the man away — but it was too late.

He was inside his head.

* * *

They had only just made it through the main road and to the dock when Nre realized that Dannlin was missing. She turned around and scanned the faces of the early-morning bustle, but didn't see him.

"Dannlin!" she called, searching for his blonde hair among the sweaty heads of merchants setting up their wares and sailors carrying their cargo. "Dannlin!"

"I think he just fell behind," Cameron said, looking too. "Let's wait for a few minutes."

Nre nodded nervously and they stood on the side of the road, looking for him amidst the throng. More minutes passed and they still didn't see him.

"We need to keep going," Nre sighed.

"Don't worry about him — I'm sure he'll find one of our groups in no time," Cameron reassured. "Besides, it's not him that I'm really worried about."

"Right," Nre agreed, though she still looked over her shoulder as they headed onto the docks.

Contrary to what they had imagined the docks of Ellespeth to look like (at least as unorganized as the rest of it, Cameron had assumed), what greeted their eyes as they stepped onto the squeaky boardwalk was a machine of efficiency. Chaos seemed to prevail, with sailors and captains and slaves running every which way, but every motion was soon seen to have a purpose. Even the ships themselves were categorized where they docked in the harbor.

"Would you look at that?" Cameron said in surprise, pointing to a weathered sign that hung directly at the entrance to the wharf.

The sign was barely legible, the original paint worn down by the salt spray drifting in from the sea, but it clearly noted a marking system that differentiated one type of boat from another. A red striped pole stood in front of the fishing ships, a blue-green striped pole in front of the merchant ships, and a yellow striped pole in front of the passenger ships.

"This makes things a little easier," Cameron commented as they weaved through the bustle, jerking Nre out of the way before she was clubbed accidentally by a red striped post a man was taking out of its holder. "We just have to find a yellow pole."

"Right, yellow pole," she said breathlessly, as the sailors yelled at her to, "watch where you're going, slave boy!"

They tried several boats that were moored at yellow poles, but very few of them were going far. Most were going to Acine in the northeast, or Vell in the southeast. A few were going as far east as Rimra, but that was all. They were starting to get nervous as the hour dragged on, especially when Dannlin didn't return, and were just contemplating finding Carvin's group when they came upon a ship that looked suspiciously uninhabited.

"Where are you bound?" intoned a lithe young women, walking down the short bridge from the ship's deck to the boardwalk.

A hat obscured most of her face, but her long hair and voice identified her as a woman, though she was dressed in boy's clothes. Something about her clothes seemed strange, but Nre couldn't place it.

"I was going to ask you," Cameron said.

The woman pushed up the bill of her hat and looked at Cameron more closely, then at Nre.

"Cameron, Nre," she said flatly.

There was a heavy pause; Cameron tensed, wondering if this was the ship Karl had told them of, or if she was with the people who were chasing them.

"The fiari told me there would be more," she said, looking behind them. "Where is the rest of your party?"

"Searching for you," Cameron said, relief settling in his chest at her words. "We'll find them and come back. When do we set sail?"

"As soon as you arrive, it's off to Berensia" she said with a small smile.

Something about the way her mouth curved, Cameron didn't like. But he had little choice but to trust Karl, so he nodded.

"We'll return within the hour," he promised.

"We'll be waiting," the woman said, striding up the walkway to the ship once more.

"I don't like this at all," Nre said in a low voice as they walked away.

And then it hit her, what was different about the woman's clothes. It was already hot here on the docks — Cameron had rolled up his short sleeves further just a few minutes ago, and most of the men were sweating, even those who were bare chested. The woman, however, was wearing long pants, and sleeves that covered even her hands. _Why would she do that?_

"Well, it's our only choice," Cameron said. "Unless you want to stay and meet whomever it was that throttled Sarah."

Nre shivered; she didn't like either choice.

They hurried toward the other end of the docks as fast as they could, looking for Carvin and the others to tell them what they had found. So focused were they on searching the wharf for familiar faces, that they didn't notice the man following them until it was too late.

Black flashed in front of Nre's eyes, then white.

"Cam," she whispered, but her lips didn't move.

And then, she lost consciousness.

* * *

Faidn whistled cheerily as the boat nosed into the dock at the port city of Ellespeth — finally. He jumped off the boat (perhaps a bit prematurely, as the sailors yelling at him were happy to point out) and looked around at the wharf. _Busy, smelly, just like everyplace else, _he thought to himself. He had been hoping that arriving in the correct country at last would warrant a bit more pomp and circumstance, but no matter. His stomach growled, reminding him that the meager breakfast served on the ship was, firstly, too small, and secondly, too long ago. He quickly got to business finding some inexpensive food.

He peered around the people as he made his way through the streets, dipping and weaving around huge loads of cargo and frustrated horsemen, until he saw a stand that looked promising. He haggled for a sandwich and walked away triumphant, having paid a little over half of the original price.

He had gotten pretty good at haggling since he'd started boat-hopping — it was the only thing that had kept him alive, and kept his money lasting this long.

_Next on the list, an inn. Not too fancy, but not too run-down..._

He took a deep breath and wrapped up his sandwich before merging back into the crowd. A familiar voice caught his ears before he could get far in his search.

"—ere else could they be? We've checked the inn, and—"

Faidn shoved his way out of the crowd again, tripping three times in his venture across the grain of movement. He lost his balance a fourth time as he broke free of the crowd and landed sprawled in front of a surprised group of people.

"Faidn!" Carvin cried incredulously, looking at the brown haired boy in astonishment. Faidn was the last person he had been expecting to see.

"My sandwich!" Faidn cried incredulously, holding aloft his undamaged sandwich. "Oh right, Faidn. That's me," he said, picking himself up and brushing himself off. "How'd you know it was me?"

"I'd know that ungainly sprawl anywhere," Carvin said with a grin.

"What a welcome," Faidn huffed. "I travel around the whole of Ladyra by _boat_, was almost killed by pirates at least twice, and lost my favorite hat to some arrogant lass who thought she could shoot arrows — and could, incidentally — to come after _you _and this is the welcome I get? What friendship. What loyalty."

He held his hands up in resigned disappointment, looking at Rose, Sarah, and Dannlin for agreement.

"Fai, lay off it," Carvin said, still grinning. "Did that all really happen?"

"Do I lie?" Faidn asked, deeply insulted.

"Sometimes."

"Well, I'm not now," he muttered darkly, fiddling with the wrap on his sandwich.

"Pirates? Girls who can shoot better than you?" Carvin said skeptically.

Faidn glowered.

"Never mention Lydia again. Ever. Now, who are these two lovely ladies and gentleman?"

"Forgive me," Carvin said courteously. "Faidn, this is Miss Rose and Miss Sarah. This is Dannlin. Dannlin and ladies, this is Faidn."

"Don't you love it when he gives the ladies a title and not you?" Faidn grinned shaking Dannlin's hand heartily. "Nice to meet you."

"Same," Dannlin said with a nod and smile.

"And ladies," Faidn said, taking their hands in turn politely. "Pleased to meet you."

They murmured something polite, each of them blushing slightly at the manners being directed toward them. Carvin wondered where all of Faidn's manners had been at the palace — and it suddenly struck him that their stay at the palace seemed to have been much longer ago than it really was.

"I see you have not managed to ensnare your reluctant bride as of yet," Faidn observed, looking around and not spotting Nre anyplace.

"Actually, I found her and Prince Cameron both, but now they've gone missing again. They were supposed to meet us here a half hour ago."

"They've eloped," Faidn prophesied dejectedly.

Carvin put his head in his hands.

"I was joking," Faidn said in alarm, then paused. "I think. They _haven't _eloped, have they?"

"I don't know," Carvin said, sounding inordinately frustrated. "I just hope nothing's gone wrong. They are on the run from someone, after all."

"On the run?" Faidn said. "Well, that's exciting. But if they've only been missing for half an hour, they probably just got held up. Give them a few more minutes."

"How about you tell us how you got here, then, while we wait?" Carvin suggested.

Faidn noticed how tight his friend's voice was, and one more look at his face, and Faidn knew there was something going on that Carvin didn't want to say in front of the girls.

"Alright," he said grandly, "but I'll need someplace to sit."

"There's a bench over there, my lord," Rose offered, pointing to a momentarily clear bench.

"'My lord'!" Faidn said, raising his eyebrows. "Didja hear that, Vin? I'm a lord! And she meant it_._"

"Congratulations," Carvin said dryly. "Call him Faidn," he said to Rose, who nodded.

They went over and claimed the bench, the two girls and Faidn sitting on it while Carvin leaned against the wall behind it.

"Where to start..." Faidn mused.

"How did you know to come to Ellespeth?" Carvin asked.

"Good place, thank you! Well, my mum practically shoved me out the door, blathering about adventure and whatnot, so I headed to the West Wood, naturally, since that's where everyone had been seen last."

Carvin winced appreciatively.

"After wandering around in there for a day or so looking for you, an oversized dragonfly tried to spook my horse, but good ol' Danny was having none of that. Then, the blighter spoke; nearly scared me out of my wits until I realized it was a fairy.

"I grabbed ahold of it, and she agreed to tell me where you were if I could answer three riddles. The cheat only asked one riddle before she started trying to get me to kiss her or something."

Faidn paused his monologue to make a dreadful face.

"Anyway, I wrangled the riddles out of her and she told me where you were — none to willingly — before flitting away without offering any help getting there. So, I found my way out of the wood, thanks to the trees (they talk, did you know?) who were polite enough to show me the way out once I asked.

"I rode to the port city and figured out where Ellespeth was, then sold my horse to a Duchess trying to escape an arranged marriage, I think. Or wait, maybe she was just running away from home. I don't know, but I got at least quadruple what that horse was worth, and that's saying something. Filthy rich, she was.

"From there, I boarded a ship to Yerc, but we were attacked by pirates. _That _was a terrifyingly spectacular experience, let me tell you. I almost died, but I fought them off well enough that they decided I wasn't worth the effort to kill and threw me in the galley with the few others good enough to give them bother. They made port in Molln. I escaped with a few of the other survivors and quickly got on board a ship bound for Rimra.

"That boat landed in Linsit for repairs. There I met Lydia while I was waiting for them to fix it up and lost my favorite hat in a shooting contest with the wretch. When the captain declared the boat would take too long to fix, I demanded a partial refund, then took that money and bought passage to Rimra.

"We left the next morning, and were under control of different pirates by the next evening. I don't know why they didn't kill me, but I think the... first mate's... girlfriend? Or was it his sister? Whatever. One of the two girls they had with 'em (tough girls, too they could have taken my head off fifteen seconds _before _I even knew it was coming) took a liking to me and let me stay alive if I stayed out of the way. We did still land in Rimra, and I slipped off while most of them were in town. Then I took another boat to Ellespeth and just arrived minutes before you saw me. And that's it."

"Wow," Carvin said. "You've been busy."

"I'm still trying to decide if I'm naturally adventurous or naturally unlucky," Faidn said.

* * *

**So Gloria and Thomas are on their way! What do you think happened to Cameron and Nre? And hey, Faidn's finally found them! Opinions?**

Eva**: Now YOU are the only reviewer — usually Mazzie ends up being the only one. Congrats! You can have a bowl of delicious raspberry sherbet as a prize. -smile- Now, your reviews — **

**20: 1) Thanks! 2) I do love him too… We will see. -grin- 3) Yeah. It ripped me up to write it originally; it's nice that someone else besides Lobuck understands now. 4) Yes! That's exactly what I was trying to get across subtly. I'm so glad you got that impression. -smile- **

**21: Hehehe. -guilty chuckle- I'm a bit mean. Yes, Karl is a bit slippery in his tactics… but he's a desperate man, you know. I'm glad you liked the street vendors and singing boys — I rather like them myself. Is Danny name for a horse? Hum. I thought it sounded like a trusty old farmhorse name — not too complicated and nice and homey. Awww, Moana can talk. -supergrin- I always picture her as a newborn baby, which is silly, since she's over a year old now. Yikes! I thought the Gloria/Thomas interaction was sweet, too, but I wasn't sure it came across that way… I'm glad it did to you at least! Iain is scary and mean, indeed. Do not chew your fingernails off, however. -chuckle- Yes, Mel is definitely in this for the adventure more than Karl — she's very determined that way, as you say.**

**22: Karl always takes the flak I think. Haha. Aw, I'm glad you liked the girl. I do enjoy writing children — I love them so. About the gypsy woman… interesting ideas, you have. -smile- I can't promise that she'll show up again, but your thoughts have merit. I hope you had sweet dreams!**

**Reviewers get a piece of cherry crumble with ice cream!**


	24. In Which Things Get Very Suspenseful

**31 . 5 . 11**

**Happy Memorial Day Weekend to all you Americans out there — have a great time with friends, family, cookouts, and pool parties. -smile-**

**And enjoy this chapter as a belated holiday gift from me. -grin- Happy reading!**

* * *

"They've been kidnapped."

The statement was spoken by a woman who, for all practical purposes, had appeared out of thin air. Whether she had actually materialized or merely approached them unnoticed in the crowd was hard to say.

"Who are you?" Carvin asked, stepping between the woman and the rest of his friends.

"A friend of Karl's," the woman said, looking him up and down, then in the eye. Her voice was straightforward, but calm. "They've been captured."

"Who?" Carvin said cautiously. He didn't know this woman from Adam, and she could easily be one of their pursuers, trying to lure them into a trap in order to capture Cameron and Nre.

"Prince Cameron and Princess Nre. And Karl," she said, glancing over her shoulder and speaking quietly. "Iain's men have got them. As soon as they reach his house in Philettin, he'll force Cameron and Nre to use their wishes. You don't have much time."

"Philettin? But that's days—"

"Not with a traveling spell, it's not," she interrupted. "How did you think you got here so fast? I ran into Karl before they found him," she said in explanation, before Carvin could ask how she knew that.

"How do I know I can believe you?" he asked.

"My dear soldier," she said with a tight smile, "you don't have a choice. You can search the docks if you wish (I assume they were searching for Karl's ship there?) But you won't find them, and you'll be wasting precious time."

Carvin looked at the others, but their eyes held no answers. They were all looking at him, waiting for him to make a decision, trusting him not to lead them astray.

"Very well," he finally said, turning back to her. "What would you have us do?"

"I would lead you myself, but we are too far from the trees. Do you have a map?"

Carvin pulled the map that the Vests had issued him out of his pocket, and the woman took it. She closed her eyes, and a moment later, a trail of blue ink was extending on the paper leading from the port city to the east. It was slowly lengthening in that direction.

"That's where Cameron and Nre are," she said, pointing to the moving end of the line. "Take the main road east. I'll find you when I can."

She grabbed Carvin's face suddenly, and he almost wrenched free — reminded inexplicably of the fairy in the forest — but she angled his chin down and gently kissed his forehead once.

"Protection," she whispered. She kissed his forehead again. "Speed."

Carvin felt something shivery string through his body. She quickly did the same for the rest of the party, then vanished.

Faidn was the first to break the hesitant silence.

"Do magical people often show up and give you unexplained directions?"

The others traded looks, but Dannlin finally said, "Well, yeah. If you're important enough."

Faidn didn't blink.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's ride into the east and save your lady love." He paused. "And Cameron too. And Karl, since we'll already be there."

Sarah looked sharply at Carvin who, if he was blushing, was doing an excellent job of hiding it.

They quickly checked out of the inn and headed to the stables. After a brief — heated — discussion about whether they should walk or ride (Carvin said riding was faster, but Faidn insisted it was too much for the horses) they saddled their horses to ride east. Faidn wasn't pleased with the situation, since one of the poor horses was carrying three people, but Carvin pointed out in an undertone that Sarah, Dannlin, and Rose were all malnourished and underweight.

Rose couldn't have weighed more than 90 pounds, and neither Dannlin nor Sarah were over 100. So it was decided that Carvin and Sarah would ride together, and Dannlin and Rose would ride with Faidn who, though tall, was all height and little stock himself. The sun was just nearing its peak when they lost sight of the city behind them, following the blue line on the map as it crept ever eastward.

It wasn't until they camped for the night that Carvin realized the woman hadn't told them what they were going to do when they caught up with Cameron and Nre's kidnappers. It seemed unlikely that they would be intimidated by Carvin and the rest of their sorry bunch. Carvin lay down with a troubled mind, and woke in much the same manner. He hoped the woman would find them soon.

* * *

When Nre and Cameron opened their eyes, they were in almost complete blackness, and the whole world was shaking violently. Still a bit woozy, it took them several frightening moments to realize that they were probably in a small covered wagon of sorts — a prison wagon, perhaps. No amount of beating or pushing on the door availed them of anything but a few sore fists and elbows.

They soon gave up, collapsing on the floor with a sigh. Cameron's hand found Nre's in the dark, and he was about to say something comforting when a voice spoke suddenly from the darkness.

"Did you think it would be that easy?" the voice drawled from the corner.

They jumped at the sound, and Nre squeaked in surprise as they squinted, trying to focus on the corner. By that time, their eyes had fully adjusted to the dim lighting, and they were able to make out a hunched shape. Judging by the voice, Cameron hazarded a guess.

"Karl?" he ventured.

"One for the money," Karl replied.

"You were kidnapped?" Nre continued, heart sinking into her stomach. This could not bode well.

"Two for the show," he said.

There was something different in Karl's demeanor, but neither of them could place it.

"Where are we going? Who—"

"Philettin, probably," Karl interrupted. "And Iain kidnapped you. Us. Well, his people did. Iain would never consent to doing the dirty work. Besides, he's probably busy laying spells in anticipation of your arrival. He's a wizard, in case you didn't figure that out. We're heading to his vacation home in Philettin now."

Karl laughed a little at his own joke; Philettin was a perpetual desert that spawned a people as harsh and unyielding as their terrain. Civilized people avoided Philettin at all costs. Nre and Cameron did not laugh.

"You're telling us more than you did before," Cameron said suddenly. "And you're not writhing around in pain, either."

"Was I _writhing?"_ Karl questioned, affronted. "What a grim word."

"Well? What changed?" Nre demanded.

"If you must know," Karl said dismissively. "Iain is my master. He forced himself into my mind and found out where you were, and then banished me from his presence. Well, technically, he said, 'Get out of my life, you lying cur.'"

Karl seemed rather proud of that.

"And?" Cameron asked, failing to see the connection.

"I swear, they don't teach royalty anything anymore," Karl said with a huge sigh. "_And, _that statement used a wish, all but freeing me from him. I escaped and tried to find you before his men did, but they got to you first. I then ran into a friend of mine, who promised to go find Carvin and the rest of the ragtag adventurers. And then, I was captured, because Iain realized how dangerous I was. All he has to do is hold onto me until he forces you to wish, and then I won't be a threat to him."

Nre and Cameron were silent as they tried to figure out what Karl meant.

"You don't know what he's planning to do with your wishes, do you?" Karl's voice was suddenly low and serious in the dark.

"No," Cameron said slowly.

Karl sort of laughed, but, as always, it fell flat.

"Of course you don't. Why would you? How could you?" his voice went just a little too high, and Nre squeezed Cameron's hand blindly. She felt like something huge and uncontrollable was looming over them. She barely managed the words,

"What is it?"

Karl didn't answer right away. They saw him move slightly; it looked like he was running his hand through his hair.

"Iain has somehow been convinced that fairies are going to cause the downfall of human society," he said carefully.

Nre sucked in a breath sharply, but Cameron hadn't followed the thought far enough. Karl paused again, steeling himself for his next statement.

"He's going to use your wishes to destroy the fairy race," Karl finally said. "Fairies, fiari, half-bloods, everyone."

"Genocide," Cameron said, his voice barely audible. "Like the merpeople."

"But that wasn't done with Shayna's wish," Karl said. "Enough of them survived to continue their race. Races are pretty resistant to magic, as a whole. But after Iain's done, no one with a drop of fairy blood in them will see the rise of another sun. Shayna's wish is said to be the most powerful magical weapon that will ever be seen in Ladyra."

Nre suddenly recognized the tone in his voice: determination.

"So, now what's the plan?" Cameron asked, also picking up on the strange determination in the man's voice.

"I have no idea," Karl said, then laughed humorlessly. "He's got all the aces, and we really have no hope. Even if Mel does manage to steer Carvin and the others in the right direction, they're not much against Iain's small army, and his magic."

"But…" Nre trailed off expectantly, waiting for Karl to continue.

The fiari's eyes glinted in the dusky light that was filtering through the cracks in the walls of the wagon. Outside, they heard the steady tramping of horse's hooves and nothing else.

"But," Karl finally said, "Iain's expecting us to lay down and die. There are no other options for us." He paused, then looked at each of them, sizing them up. "I don't know about you, but dying wasn't in my plans for this year."

"Can we fight?" Cameron said, his voice hardening.

"We certainly can't," Karl replied without hesitation.

"We're going to fight anyway," Nre declared.

Karl smiled, the closest thing to a real smile that either of them had ever seen from him.

"Oh yes. We're going to fight, and we're going to die."

"For Ladyra, and for freedom," Cameron said, gripping Nre's hand.

"Though we will assuredly fail," Karl agreed. "We fight."

* * *

As soon as the squadron arrived at the shack by the rocky beach, they knew something was wrong. They were in the right place — the townspeople gave impeccable directions as they thanked the general profusely for coming — but it was far too quiet. Still, they remained on their guard until the soldiers broke down the door and searched the interior of the tiny place, only to find it empty. General Henchfeld searched it himself, and his men combed the land for any sign of the wizard, but there was nothing to be found; the man wasn't there.

Thomas and Gloria walked into the house cautiously, their eyes peeled for any signs that might indicate where the wizard went in such a hurry. The shack looked like it had been hit with a small storm; the furniture was knocked over, and anything that had been on a flat surface was scattered across the floor.

The few dishes present in the kitchen were shattered on the stone, and a thankfully unlit lamp was overturned on the table, spilling oil onto the surface. The only other room, the living room, was in a similar state of disregard. An armchair was on its side, and a small round table that had probably been set up beside it had almost rolled into the fireplace. Ashes were strewn past the brick hearth and over the weathered wood flooring.

"This wasn't just a man in a hurry to leave," Thomas murmured, taking in the wreckage. "There's barely any furniture here, yet everything but the kitchen table was knocked over."

"The wind can account for the ashes and maybe the dishes," Gloria said, realizing that her husband was right, "but why is the armchair knocked over?"

"There was a struggle," Thomas said softly, his eyes distant as he imagined it. "Iain was fighting with someone, and then he left."

_A larger man is standing by the chair, a smaller man is on his knees before him. Shouting, silence. The smaller man suddenly lunges at the other man, knocking over the chair and the table._

Something caught Gloria's eye. She squinted. Was there something … dangling over the fireplace?

"Tom," she said, gesturing toward the small black shape. "Is that a bir—"

It fell suddenly with a loud _crack_ onto the hearth below, and Thomas and Gloria both ran to it. Thomas got there first; he picked up the object and examined it. It was a figurine of a wolf, and it seemed to be made of black onyx.

_The men regain their footing, and the smaller man grabs the wolf from the kitchen table, knocking over the lamp. He hurls it at the larger man, but the man deflects in the nick of time; he throws a net of magic that diverts the wolf, pinning it to the wall._

Thomas ran his fingers over the wolf, and he felt almost imperceptible strands of what felt like hair. The wolf felt warm to the touch.

"Magic," Thomas said, handing the object to Gloria. "Do you feel it?"

She nodded, but the spell was fading fast. The strings were vanishing, though the wolf remained warm.

"One of them must have thrown it, and the other one stuck it to the wall," she said, picturing the scuffle in her head.

Thomas nodded, but then something caught his eye. He stood and walked over to investigate. Gloria followed him as he knelt by a charred spot on the floor in the shadow of the table that was only really visible from the hearth.

_The larger man shot a spell at the smaller man, but he dodged barely in time, darting away from the table and toward the sink. His reflexes were slower than usual. The next blow caught him head on, knocking him backward onto the countertop. Plates skittered to the floor around him and he struggled to take another breath._

Gloria followed Thomas' eyes to the plates, then the counter. He felt the black spot on the ground, catching the last traces of the spell. He motioned for Gloria to do the same.

"It's the same type of magic," Thomas said, looking to Gloria for verification.

She didn't know much about magic — not as much as Thomas, anyway — but she had to agree that the hairlike threads felt almost identical.

"I'd be willing to bet the figurine is the wizard's," Thomas said, standing and moving to the counter. "They often use them to enhance spells. They're very valuable."

He ran his hands along the counter, then the wall, feeling for any traces of the spell that had knocked the other man backward.

"He wouldn't have thrown his own magical object," Gloria said, building on his train of thought. "So the magic on it is the wizard's. The burn mark on the floor is, too."

"And so is the spell on the wall here," Thomas said, his fingers finally locating the vestiges of the magic.

It was gone before Gloria could reach a hand out to touch it.

"So the wizard won, and then he left," Thomas said.

"But all these spells haven't faded yet," Gloria said slowly. "That means—"

"It's not been that long since he left," Thomas finished, standing and running to the door.

Gloria came up beside them, and they surveyed the ground, hoping fruitlessly that hoof-marks would suddenly show themselves. The wind, however, had swept any trace of them away.

"I wonder who was fighting him," Gloria mused.

"Not anyone from town, or they would have told us, I'm sure," Thomas said.

They were both thinking of Karl.

"Do you think it might have been Karl?" Gloria finally said.

"There's no way of knowing, is there?" Thomas said, a bit too shortly. "All we can do is hope for the best for him, and try to find the wizard."

Gloria let her fingers trace the curves and dips of the wolf figuring for a few moments before saying anything else.

"What do we do now?" Gloria asked him, feeling the smooth stone beneath her fingertips.

"Ask the people in town if he had another home somewhere, maybe out of the country," Thomas said, his mind on overdrive. "People are nosy; they might know something."

Gloria nodded, holding onto the only hope she could.

"Let's go," she said, setting the wolf down just inside the door and walking with her husband to tell the general of their plans.

The figurine's lidless eyes watched them go hungrily.

* * *

It didn't take long for people other than Carvin to realize that they had no plan. Dannlin, Sarah, and Rose didn't have much to say on the subject — Carvin assumed they were still a bit too meek to voice their opinions to a "free man" just yet. Faidn, however, had no qualms with telling everyone just what he thought of the woman who'd sent them running and then left.

"Jolly bad manners," he grumped. "For all we know, she's sending us to our deaths. Hang it, she _is _sending us to our deaths."

He adjusted his grip on the reigns, nickering at the horse to plod along happily after him. They were giving the horses a bit of a break and walking for a few hours.

"You know, just yesterday you were all peaches and pie about 'running into the east' and all other sorts of nonsense," Carvin shot back.

"Well, yeah," Faidn said, visibly affronted. "That was before she deserted us for twenty-four hours with no sort of direction whatsoever. I was expecting her to come back and clarify a few things."

"She said she would," Dannlin piped up. "Give her a bit. She's probably got other world-saving things to do."

Faidn gave the boy a hard look. Dannlin quailed a bit, but the smirk on his face didn't budge.

"Heyo, Vin — I like this kid," Faidn said, breaking out into a grin and punching Dannlin's arm. "How long d'you reckon she'll leave us stranded? We're catching up with them pretty fast."

Carvin confirmed this by glancing at their map, which clearly indicated that they were traveling faster than Cameron and Nre's kidnappers. Dannlin shrugged. Sarah replied instead.

"As long as she shows up before we run into them, that's all that really matters, ey?" she pointed out brightly.

Faidn had to concede her point.

"Well, here's hoping, then," he said, smiling at Sarah.

The girl blushed and turned back to Rose, who looked like she was just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

* * *

**Enter a mysterious fairy woman — any guesses on her identity? -smile- And the plot thickens with Nre and Cameron running into Karl. As for Gloria and Thomas' discoveries, well… what do you think?**

sofia**: 6: I hope you get far enough to read this! Thank you for reviewing — I love seeing reviews in my inbox, especially from new readers. They really light up my day. Thank you for your kind words and encouragement. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and I hope to see more reviews from you soon!**

**Reviewers get a piece of classic American apple pie!**


	25. In Which People Meet Each Other

**17 . 6 . 11**

**Man, it's been too long since I've updated. I forgot to bring my computer with me to Internet Land last weekend, so yes. Anyway, enough of my life — I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Mel gripped the tree branch and took a deep breath, then blew it out impatiently. She was surprised and annoyed at her own lack of stamina. She couldn't fathom how Karl was able to leave the forest so often. Just a few hours away from the leafy arbor and she was starting to get short of breath. _It's a good thing I found a tree here in Philettin._

_There's more to the little one than you know, _the tree advised her.

"Little one?" Mel said with a chuckle. "That's a strange nickname for Karl."

_More than you know, _the tree repeated.

"Alright, alright," Mel said, rapping the branch with her knuckles a little too firmly to be quite friendly. "Did you know he was in trouble, then?"

_He is constantly in trouble._

If Mel didn't know that the trees were unfailingly patient, she might have thought that the tree had sounded a bit exasperated.

"Yeah, well, he's been kidnapped," she said.

_He is a fiari; fiari are constantly in bondage._

"No," Mel said, blowing some hair out of her face with annoyance. The trees were very slow. "I mean, he's been kidnapped, on top of that."

_By whom?_

"Well… his master," Mel said reluctantly. She hastened to explain. "His master ordered him away, then kidnapped him before he could warn anyone about what his master was planning to do."

_Ah, this must have to do with the Shayna's kin he brought through here a while ago._

"As far as I can tell," Mel said with a half shrug.

_What is the wizard planning?_

"Search me," Mel said. "All I know is that apparently Karl was trying to stop him."

_That sounds far too benevolent to be Karl._

Mel chuckled.

"Perhaps. Maybe they have an impact on him somehow," Mel said with little interest. "Anyway, I need to go find Karl, wherever he is, and try to get some idea of what I'm supposed to be telling his little friends to do. I'll be back in a little while."

_Don't let the little one entangle you in anything you can't handle, _the tree warned.

"I rather think Karl is in the business of that," Mel said ruefully as she let go of the branch and flitted away.

It didn't take too long to reach the lonely wagon from the tree she had found outside of a city. She briefly considered trying to free the captives herself, but she soon abandoned that. It was far too risky to go against humans alone. Better to at least have someone along to distract them from the fact that you're a _fairy. _

The wagon was being pulled by two horses — a bit overkill for such a small wagon, Mel reflected — and it was flanked by two men on horseback. Including the driver and his companion, who were seated in the front of the wagon, that made four people. She was already invisible, but she assumed they would have to have some sort of magical training, so she kept an eye on them as she flew closer to the wagon from behind. That way, she would only have to watch the two riding horses.

"Lucky for me Karl's a mind-magician," she muttered to herself before gathering all her concentration and thinking his name as loud as she possibly could.

There was no response. Mel thought one of the horsemen twitched, but she couldn't be sure. She inched closer, wings beating feverishly in the hot air. Her eyes darted from one man to the other, but neither of them gave any sign that they noticed her presence. Then, she ran into a web.

The men reacted as one; the wagon jolted to a halt, and the men on horseback reigned in their steeds and swiveled around, drawing their swords. Mel's heart leapt into her throat as she tried to untangle herself from the spell, but the harder she struggled the tighter the threads wrapped around her.

She barely heard shouts from inside the wagon; her hearing was fuzzy, probably from the spell.

_Karl! _She thought desperately, using magic to uncoil the spell at an agonizing pace. The men were almost upon her, their swords raised as their practiced eyes scanned the area for the disturbance. It wouldn't take them long to find her.

_Karl, help!_

* * *

The day passed in restless boredom. For the first few hours after waking, Cameron and Nre jumped at every sound, thinking they had arrived. All the false alarms and bursts of adrenaline, however, left the pair exhausted. It wasn't long before Nre fell asleep on Cameron's shoulder, lulled to unconsciousness by the steady movement of the wagon.

Cameron took advantage of that time to really look at Nre. For knowing her so well through their years of correspondence, he felt like something about her always caught him by surprise when he was around her. The way her mouth curled up when she was trying to be serious, the freckle by her left ear, the callouses on her fingers from writing — the list was endless. Even when he could barely see her in the dim light of the wagon, he still noticed something new.

As she slept, she caught a corner of his shirt between her forefinger and thumb, and she rubbed it lightly — like a worrystone. Cameron smiled slightly and kissed her hair. Karl watched the two of them through half-open eyes, not tired, and tense. As he watched Cameron tuck a piece of hair behind Nre's ear, he wondered if either of them really knew what it meant to look death in the eye and spit in its face.

He hoped they would learn fast.

Even Karl was almost asleep when the wagon jerked to a stop. Cameron and Nre — who were quite asleep — fell over with cries of surprise, but Karl jumped to his feet with a curse at Iain and all things human. He knew immediately that it was Mel outside; he could feel her racing mind. He should have known she would try to find him. She didn't know enough about the situation to continue on without more guidance on his part.

"What's going on?" Cameron said, also standing and looking at Karl.

"One of my friends," Karl muttered, concentrating on finding Mel and releasing her from Iain's spells.

"What—"

"Shut up," Karl said forcefully.

As soon as his magic brushed Mel, his mind was filled with her thoughts.

"A dampening spell," he said angrily. "So that no one could contact me unless they were in the spell. Iain, why do you have to be so brilliant? It would be much easier to hate you if you were stupid."

_Karl! Help! They're about to—_

_Calm down, love, _Karl thought coolly. _I'll get you out in just one second._

_They'll kill me in one second! _Mel thought in a panic. Karl could see in her tangled thoughts that the soldiers were approaching her; she had moments left to live if she couldn't free herself. She worked against the spell with all her might, and the threads finally began to loosen. A stubborn few threads still clung on.

_You have to find Nre's parents, _Karl said quickly_. They're probably at Iain's home on the coast of Molln. Mel, listen — Iain's going to destroy the fairies._

The soldiers spotted the magical disturbance, and one of them lifted a sword.

_KARL—_

Karl took a breath and shoved all the magic he could spare into Mel. The sudden burst of energy snapped the strings and shoved Mel backward, safely out of the road, just as the sword struck the air she had been in moments before.

Mel didn't waste a moment; she was flying toward Molln and away from those soldiers before she had time to be relieved.

Karl listened, holding his breath, to see if he had just spared Mel or killed her. The nasty words that escaped the soldier's mouth, muffled through the walls of the wagon, were all Karl needed to take another breath.

"That was rather closer than I would have liked," Karl said.

"What—?" Nre said, unsure of how to continue.

"That was our only stab at life, and she very nearly died," Karl said. "That friend of mine I was telling you about. She's going to find your parents, Nre, and hopefully get them to Iain's before we're all dead."

"How can my parents help?" Nre said, confused.

"I have learned, over the years," Karl said, sitting down as the wagon started moving again, "to never underestimate parents. Especially royal ones. Somewhere between the righteous anger and the unlimited resources, they become quite a force to be reckoned with."

He paused, then added truthfully: "I just hope it's enough of a force."

* * *

Mel flew over the barren wasteland of Philettin, occasionally passing over a city or village, but mostly seeing yellow dust and the occasional strangled shrub. She was intensely grateful for adrenaline and Karl's magic; they were the only two things that kept her in the air. Once she was far enough away from the wagon to breathe properly again, Karl's words hit her between the eyes.

_Mel, listen — Iain's going to destroy the fairies._

"That's what he wanted with Shayna's Wish," she said to herself, shaking her head and starting to panic. "Oh, stars. Oh, Shayna. Oh, trees of life eternal."

She covered her face for a moment — but just a moment, since she was still flying, and flying quite quickly — and pulled herself together. She had a mission.

"Nre's parents, Mollnian coast. Iain's house. I have no idea where that is."

She hit something that almost knocked her out of the air, but she caught herself with a yelp. She looked around, but there were no birds. Confused, she looked down and realized where she must be. A large house was sprawled beneath her on the Philettin plain, far away from any villages or towns.

"Hello, Iain," she said nastily, feeling out the protective spell she'd run into and skirting around it.

Unlike the last one, this spell wasn't meant to catch, but to keep out.

"Just fine with me," she muttered, finally getting around the huge barrier and continuing on her way.

She considered how powerful Iain must be to cast spells in such a huge diameter that they reached her in the air. _That magic plus Shayna's Wish could easily—_

Mel didn't let herself finish the thought, instead thinking of what she was going to say to Nre's parents (the King and Queen of Berensia!) when she saw them. Did they know who Karl was? How could she convince them that she wasn't one of Iain's men leading them into a trap?

_Well, at this point, they might be willing to spring a trap if it meant getting close to Nre, _she considered.

Mel glanced down to check her progress. Flying in a general southwesterly direction was leading her over Ladyra now. She could tell the peaceful country even from her position high in the air because of the brightly-colored flags that the citizens insisted on flying from every crack and crevice of their lives. It was surprising the people themselves didn't just wear flags. Most of the houses sported at least two of the purple and yellow pennants, and there was one flying from every wagon.

If she remembered her geography correctly, she should be taking a jog through Liot before she reached the Mollnian coast. Once she reached it, she supposed she'd have to scour the whole coastline for traces of magic.

_I hope Iain was the only wizard living there, _she thought, skimming over the Liotian plains. _I don't have that much magic to spare, to be searching out every house along the beach._

Indeed, the fairy — though she didn't want to admit it — could feel herself flagging already, and there were no trees in sight. Still, she pushed onward for several more hours, with Karl's words ringing in her ears.

_Iain's going to destroy the fairies_

_destroy the fairies_

_Mel, listen—_

_destroy_

_fairies_

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Mel said, gritting her teeth; the Mollnian coastline was almost in view.

* * *

Questioning the people in the town was more frustrating than productive. The soldiers split up and covered all the families in just a few hours, but the news they brought back was murky at best. A few families thought he had another home "west of here," but everyone else just shook their head and shrugged.

"We tried to avoid him as much as we could — why would we know anything about his personal life?" one woman said, almost affronted, when General Henchfeld asked her.

"This is a nightmare," Gloria said, her head in her hands. They were sitting at a table in the town's tavern, and all the locals were giving them a respectful berth. "We're wasting time here."

"But we don't know where to go," Thomas said, the frustration evident in his voice. "'West of here' is about as helpful as not knowing anything."

"It's not their fault," Gloria said tiredly.

Thomas didn't say anything, but Gloria felt his hand toy with a lock of her hair. It was quiet in the tavern. The people had all but vacated the place after they realized that the exhausted-looking couple in the back were the king and queen of Berensia. Gloria felt the polished wood under her elbows, and she heard the soft singing of a maid washing dishes echo from the kitchen. The murmur of voices outside was indiscernible, for the most part. She made out a few words every now and then.

"—farm."

"That boy—"

"—here—"

"'Ey, that's the king and queen of Berensia in there," said a voice that was louder than the rest.

Thomas wrapped the lock of hair around his finger, then released it; he wasn't paying attention to the people outside. His mind was trying to discern what to do next.

"Lady, did you—" started the same loud voice.

"I'm well aware who's inside," came another voice: strong and female. "That's why I'm going inside."

Gloria peeled her head from her hands in time to see a woman stride in the door of the tavern and head straight for their table. She was quite obviously not from the town; her dress was strange, and her demeanor was set. Thomas was on his feet, hand on his sword, before she reached them.

"Your majesty," the woman said, stopping in her tracks and dipping into an embarrassed bow. "I'm sorry; I forgot my manners."

Gloria stood as well.

"What is your business here?" Thomas asked warily.

The woman didn't speak immediately; she looked like she was trying to choose her words carefully. Gloria took a moment to examine her; she was pale, with hair black as ebony and eyes like a pine forest. She was dressed in a style completely unfamiliar to Gloria, and something about her put the queen on edge.

"My name is Mel. I come with a message from Karl," she said, looking carefully at them.

"Karl?" Thomas said, instantly focused on what she had to say. "What is it?"

"He's in danger," she said, "along with the Prince and Princess. Iain's captured them and is taking them to his home in Philettin."

"Philettin," Thomas breathed.

Of all the countries, that was the worst she could have named. Which would be, of course, why Iain chose it as his second home. The warlike nature of the government and people would keep most everyone from bothering him there — especially foreign royalty.

"Do you know where his home is?" Gloria asked.

"I do," Mel said. "It's heavily guarded with spells of protection."

"Lead us to him, and we'll decide the plan as we move," Thomas said. "Gloria, I'm going to go tell the General."

"Very good," Gloria said. "I'll head to the horses, then."

But Thomas had already left the tavern at a jog, calling for General Henchfeld.

"You don't have a plan?" Mel said, looking after Thomas with apprehension. The way Karl had said to find them — she thought they would have a plan of action for attacking the wizard, and perhaps a few wizards of their own for the battle.

"I assume you have your own horse," Gloria said, leading the way out of the tavern and toward the stable.

"Not exactly," Mel hedged, jerked out of her confusion to realize that she was a _fairy _standing in front of a _human monarch_.

She was suddenly very uncomfrotable; she looked down, then to the side. Gloria recognized a guilty look when she saw one.

"Did you steal one?" Gloria said matter-of-factly.

Now was not the time to be judging anyone. She would have stolen a whole posse of horses if it meant getting to Nre any faster.

"I'm a fairy," Mel said quickly.

She kept a healthy distance, in case Gloria overreacted. Humans didn't exactly like keeping company with fairies. And the monarchs were the most powerful ones, so she could be in some real danger. Mel supposed she could see why they might not like fairies. _But that doesn't give Iain the right to—_

"Like Karl?" Gloria questioned, looking puzzled.

"Oh," Mel said, unsure of what else to say. "Um, yes. Karl is a fairy, too. Well, fiari."

"So, why are you helping us, then?" Gloria said. "Not that I'm complaining," she was quick to add. She started working at the knot tying her horse to the stable wall — there hadn't been enough stalls for all the horses.

Karl's words bludgeoned her mind once more, and her blood ran cold again as the enormity of her task fell on her shoulders. She had to somehow guide these humans to defeat Iain before he managed to destroy everything and everyone Mel had ever held dear.

The queen's eyes, soft and brown, stared expectantly into her own green ones. Mel swallowed, memories coming forcibly before her eyes and bringing the sting of tears with them as she realized that could all disappear in a matter of hours.

"Iain, the wizard, is going to use Shayna's Wish to destroy the fairies," she said, barely able to make her voice audible.

Gloria's eyes widened, and she dropped the rope.

"You're—oh—by the crown," she gasped.

She might not particularly like the fairies, but this was genocide — this wizard (Iain, Mel said?) was taking it upon himself to decide the fate of an entire race.

"We have no time to waste," she said, pulling the knot free and pulling herself onto the horse.

The other soldiers were running to the barn, and half of them were already on their horses. Gloria put her hand on Mel's head — the only part of the woman she could reach from the top of the horse.

"We're going to stop him," she said.

Mel didn't say anything, but Gloria thought she saw a scrap of a smile. Then, the woman closed her eyes and when Gloria blinked, she saw a small blur of purple-black whirring in front of her horse.

Mel flew close to her face, and Gloria thought she heard a whisper, then felt something touch her forehead. Within minutes, everyone was on his horse once more, and they followed the fairy along the road leading northeast.

* * *

"So, what happens if we catch up with them before the lady comes back?" Sarah asked gingerly. "Not to be too forward, but we don't exactly have weapons. Well, you and Faidn do, but we can't even pretend to look menacing."

"She has a point," Faidn said, eying the raggedy bunch with a pained expression. "You all are in need of some proper exercise and a few square meals."

"That'll be harder to get, since Karl's supply bag ran out," Rose said softly. The only one who heard her was Sarah.

"She's got to come back," Carvin said, but he didn't sound like he really meant it.

He looked at the map again. They were steadily gaining on Cameron and Nre, and it looked like they might even catch up with them by the end of the day. No one said anything, but Dannlin and Sarah traded a look.

Carvin heard what wasn't being said. Was he going to lead them into danger unprepared? Was he going to risk everyone's life to hang on the words of a woman whose name he didn't even know?

But how could he stand idly by while Nre was in horrible danger?

"If she doesn't return, we'll wait," he finally said. "I'll scout ahead, but you all should stay back. I can't put everyone at risk."

"Just yourself," Faidn pointed out. "I don't think so. I'll come with you."

"Fai—"

"Look, I just held my own against at least three different bands of pirates and general scallawags," Faidn said, his voice like granite. His eyes shone with what might have been the beginning of unshed tears. "I'm not going to let my best friend run into danger without me whooping at his side."

Carvin stared at Faidn. They had been best friends practically since they were born. There hadn't been many tests of their friendship during their easy life at Greyson, but now Faidn had as good as said he was willing to die alongside Carvin.

"Alright," Carvin finally said, breaking the silence. "You and me, then."

"Just like always," Faidn said, satisfied.

"Carvin."

They heard the woman's voice a split second before they saw her.

"I'm sorry it took so long," she said immediately. "I had to—nevermind, that'll take too long to explain. Suffice it to say that I found some reinforcements then took a pit stop in an outcropping of trees."

"Reinforcements?" Faidn said brightly. "I like the sound of reinforcements."

"Who?" Carvin asked.

"The king and queen of Berensia, and a battalion of Mollnian soldiers," she said, quickly explaining what she understood of the king and queen's story. "Cameron and Nre are going to arrive at Iain's house within the hour. When you get to the town of Fron, go through it and hide in the rocks just out of sight of the town. Wait there until the soldiers arrive."

"Then what?" Dannlin asked boldly.

"Then…" the woman said, "we fight."

"We fight," Carvin said with a brisk nod.

"Through Fron, hide in the rocks," the woman repeated. "The soldiers should be there by morning."

She turned to go, but stopped and looked back at Carvin. Her eyes locked into his in a way that made his stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"Carvin, don't get any heroic ideas. Wait for the soldiers. Iain is a very powerful man, and maybe even a madman."

Pine tree green eyes burrowed into his memory. He gasped.

"You're the fairy from the—"

But the woman had already vanished.

* * *

**Everything is starting to come together! Ahh! What do you think of Mel? And Thomas and Gloria?**

Lady Thorne**: Yes, Mel is the fairy woman. And I love that you assume she has an ulterior motive — obviously no one would help Karl of their own volition. XD But it's true — she just wants adventure, really. Hah. I'm glad you like Karl; he's quite the interesting character. I've loved fleshing out his character through Nasap and Jab, and I can't wait to write him again in some of the next stories in the series. —grin— Yeah, Gloria and Thomas' storyline have been what's **_**really **_**interesting for me this time around, since their stuff is actually all new. I think it adds a nice angle, a different angle, to the plot.**

Mazzie**: Well, you know. It happens. ;D And now you're out of the country, so you won't be the sole reviewer for a while. Sad face. I'm sorry, by the by, that I couldn't get this up before you left. Wrestling with the internet at the place where I'm living is frustrating and nearly pointless, so I have to wait until the weekends. And then I forgot my computer last weekend, of course. Butanyway. Your review: Faidn is totally in on these conspiracy theories of yours. I can see it all now; the two of you are hunched over some old documents purporting the existence of vampirates, wide-eyed in the flickering lamplight and constantly looking over your shoulder in case you're being spied upon. Ahahaha. You give up on Thomas and Gloria too easily; of course they get magic powers (thanks to Mel). They are parents in search of their youngest child! THEY WOULD INVENT THE AIRPLANE AND FLY. O_O Ahem, anyhow. **

**Yeah, splitting up with 50% safe and 50% kidnapped/dead is better than not splitting up and 100% kidnapped/dead. This is why splitting up, although counterintuitive, is always the best plan. Just make sure you're never with the people everyone is actually chasing. See how smart Dannlin was in getting separated from them? You know it was intentional  
(CONSPIRACY). Wow, why do I have Review-Reply-ADD today. I need to finish this up so I can actually post this chapter. Haha, faulty logic indeed. I never claimed that Iain was a master of common sense — just wizardry. XD I wish you would have mentioned when you were coming back — I hope you don't miss the ending, at least, but thanks for the fangirly-squee anyway. And I do hope you'll read the story I'll be posting after this — it's for the Ficathon and I'm loving it already. :D**

Captain**: I know you're reading this, even though you're not reviewing. Thanks for reading, friend.**

**Reviewers get lemon tarts!**


	26. In Which Fates Are Decided

**29 . 6 . 11**

**Sorry for the long pause between chapters again. I meant to update last weekend, promise! But then I ended up being super busy on account of my wonderful boyfriend asked me to marry him and thus the weekend turned into a party. And I got distracted looking at my sparkly ring. Haha! So yes. Enjoy!**

* * *

The sun was setting when the wagon pulled in front of Iain's house. Cameron, Nre, and Karl were all awake, nerves high. They heard every sound — every footstep, every squeak of a hinge. They heard the soldiers disembark from the wagon, and from their horses.

"Three of us, four of them," Karl whispered, reminding them of the plan they'd devised as they rode. "Assuming no one comes out from the house. I'll try to distract them with magic, and you run back down the road as fast as you can. There's bound to be something to hide in, and if you're lucky, someone might be here already."

"Take care of yourself," Cameron said seriously, touching Karl's arm.

Karl chuckled, and he sounded genuinely amused for once.

"You know, I'm fairly certain that no one has ever said that to me before."

They heard the bolt on the door being slid out of place, and Cameron and Nre slipped behind Karl, ready to make a run for it as soon as he cleared a path. The door opened slowly, but Karl was ready. As soon as a head was visible, he was inside of it, shouting and screaming and slamming the man's thoughts around his head and into each other at a dizzying pace. Another head appeared, and Karl did the same thing to him; they both fell out of the way, and Karl kicked open the door. The other two were running toward him, shouting about something, but he was already inside their heads.

"Run!" he shouted at Cameron and Nre; his magic was flagging fast trying to keep all of them occupied.

The royals didn't need to be told twice; they were out and running before Karl finished the word. He scrambled the men's thoughts as much as he could, panting at the effort — they were all on the ground, trying to get up, then forgetting why they were trying to get up. Cameron and Nre were running breakneck down the road, and Karl's hands were beginning to shake.

_Just—a bit—_

The door to the house slammed, and voices began shouting all at once, breaking Karl's concentration. Fifteen men were pouring out the door, running toward him with swords and long knives.

Cameron and Nre saw this over their shoulders, and they ran faster, looking desperately for a place to hide. The ground was dismally flat and dry, as far as they could see, and they were starting to get stitches in their sides.

Then, they spotted a cluster of boulders, far off from the road. Cameron grabbed Nre's hand and started toward it.

They heard a scream behind them — _Was that Karl? _— and before they could even think to look, everything went black.

* * *

Carvin and the others reached the rocks the fairy told them about around midnight. Rose was completely dead on her feet, collapsing into a pile of skin and bone as soon as they stopped moving.

"Poor girl," Sarah said softly, stroking Rose's hair.

She was tired, too, but she wasn't going to show it. Neither was Dannlin, though he sat beside Sarah as well and leaned against the rock. He may have even closed his eyes. And if his hand happened to fall on top of Sarah's in a very protective way—well, who was paying attention?

"Are those lights in the distance?" Carvin asked no one in particular, squinting toward the west.

"Probably," Faidn said, securing the horses to a dry, thorny shrub that grew stubbornly between the rocks. "These horses need water."

Carvin didn't say anything. He was staring at the lights.

"Vin," Faidn said cautiously. "Remember what that woman said about heroic ideas—"

"I know," Carvin said. "I also know that she tried to kill me once. Pardon if I take everything she says with a grain of salt all of a sudden."

His voice was flinty. Faidn almost didn't recognize it.

"Don't be stupid," he said slowly. "It won't be long 'til the soldiers get here, and I'm sure the King and Queen have a plan."

Still, Carvin stared at the lights. Faidn didn't say anything; he just watched Carvin's face change as each thought struck him.

It made sense, of course, to wait for the soldiers to arrive. That the woman was the same fairy that nearly killed him wasn't the problem, either. It was _Nre. _And Nre was trapped in that house with someone who wanted to kill her for something that wasn't even her fault. He couldn't stand idly by while his love—while Nre could be killed at any moment.

She wasn't guaranteed a sunrise.

But, at the same time, what could he do? He was one man (two, if you counted Faidn. Maybe one and a half.) against who-knows-how-many of Iain's men. And, he knew no magic. It would be a pointless act.

But the fact remained that _Nre was in that house, _and he wasn't doing anything about it.

Faidn watched the war raging in Carvin's head until his friend finally spoke, in a voice far too old for his years.

"We'll wait."

* * *

When Cameron and Nre regained consciousness, they were in a brightly-lit room. Nre recognized the smell of books even before she was fully awake, and she peered around groggily at what appeared to be a lush library. They were in the middle of a long aisle lined with books.

"What—" Cameron began to say, sitting up alongside Nre, but he stopped when he heard a noise at the end of a row.

They looked at each other, then stood as quietly as they could. Nre spotted a double-door behind them and squeezed Cameron's hand, nodding toward it. They both began to back up, then a voice rang out from out of sight.

"The doors are locked. Did you really think I would let you escape that easily after it took me so long to find you?"

A red-haired man appeared at the end of the row. He was smiling, a book in hand and a monocle in his eye. He removed the monocle and strode toward them, still smiling, and flipping through the book without looking at it.

"Cameron, Nre. Make yourself comfortable."

He gestured at a sofa behind them, toward the exit.

"No, thank you," Cameron said stiffly.

"Suit yourself," Iain said with a shrug, walking closer to them.

Cameron backed up, and so did Nre. The man's smile made Nre's skin crawl. And the way he handled the book — like it was something he dearly wished to smash into their heads — made her heart thud chillingly.

"I trust you know why you've been brought here," Iain said.

Pages slipped between his fingers in a slow pattern. Nre couldn't take her eyes off of them. _One-two-three, one, one, one-two-three, one, one._

"Firstly, you should know that there are numerous enchantments over the room — spells that will keep you from wishing for anything until I say you can. Now, whatever my fiari has told you, if you cooperate, no one need die today," Iain continued, never losing the pattern of the pages.

"Except all the fairies," Nre blurted, tearing her gaze from his hands and focusing it on his face, hot injustice burned in her cheeks. "All the innocent people who have done _nothing to you."_

"Well, except them," Iain said magnanimously, "but who counts the fairies when we're talking about important lives to be saved, hmm?"

He paused, but neither Cameron nor Nre said anything.

"After all," he continued, "they're just a blight on human society, aren't they? They enslave our youth, intentionally sabotage our labors, and render the Woods dangerous and uninhabitable. What have they ever done for us?"

"You're sick!" Cameron said, his voice ringing strong and accusatory. "Just because someone doesn't _serve _us doesn't mean we have the right to destroy them! They have as much of a right to live here as we do!"

Iain simply smiled and kept flipping pages, so Cameron continued.

"We may not get along well with the fairies right now, but things could change. I mean, we still have fairies enslaved under us — how can we expect them to love us and hope for our well-being? That surely won't have a dream of happening until all the fiari are freed. Use Shayna's Wish to free the fiari instead, Iain."

_One, one-two-three, one, one, one-two-three._

"The fairies pose an imminent threat to mankind," Iain said after pause. His voice was cool, logical. It sounded like he was explaining something very straightforward and reasonable. "Their power far exceeds ours, and they know it. They content themselves with petty tricks for now, but how long do you think that will amuse them?"

His eyes glinted, and his fingers ran the pages faster.

"It won't be long before they realize that they can overcome us, and where will your talks of peace be, then? When we are crushed under their heel?"

Cameron and Nre had no response, but the expressions on their face told Iain everything he needed to know.

"I can see that you are not willing to cooperate," he said softly, closing the cover of the book firmly. The pages fluttered, then lay flat under the pressure of Iain's hand. "Since you will not choose human well-being over human suffering, let me pose to you an easier choice."

Nre's hand was ripped away from Cameron's by a force not her own, and it came to rest in Iain's hand. She knew what was going to happen next, and she closed her eyes, as if that would stop his next words from coming.

"Will you choose human suffering over her life, Cameron? Will you allow this plague to live on in our world and allow this girl to die?"

Nre looked at Cameron. Years of letters, all-night conversations, friends through everything, now lovers who had survived a terrible adventure together. How could he possibly choose?

"Say yes," Nre whispered.

In Cameron's head, a war was raging. If he said yes, Nre might not be the only one to die.

But it might buy him more time to—_to what? For others to find us? _He thought of Mel, and of Nre's parents who were supposedly on their way. If he could just stall Iain until then…

"Iain, please think about this," he said, taking a pleading tone again. "If all you want is peace, there is another way—"

"I don't want peace!" Iain shouted, throwing the book onto the ground with a resounding slam. "I want the fairies dead!"

The door crashed open, and people began to stream in, distracting Iain long enough for Nre to wrench away from him and bolt for the door. In the hubbub, she recognized Mollnian uniforms and—was that _Faidn? _They were all fighting with Iain's guards as they swirled into the room.

"Nre!" Cameron shouted, tackling her as Iain shot a spell after her; it narrowly missed the both of them.

"Catch!" shouted a voice that they both recognized as Carvin's, and two swords slid across the floor toward them.

Nre yanked Cameron out of the way of another spell and grabbed the smaller of the swords, running toward Iain like a maniac. Cameron had nearly died by this man's hand, and she wasn't about to let that go. Nevermind that she had no idea how to wield a weapon this heavy, or that Iain clearly knew magic.

Thankfully, Cameron also picked up a sword and reached Iain first. He blocked the man's spell with his sword, then swung heavily. Nre was soon flanked by two Mollnian soldiers who informed her that Mel had enchanted the sword to help her fight, and they were soon set upon by four of Iain's men.

"I swear, they're breeding like rabbits when we're not looking!" Faidn cried, wielding his weapon as best he could against the men and glad he was fighting alongside the Mollnian general.

"You can end this now, Cameron, by wishing for the fairies' demise," Iain said, pulling a sword from a sheath that Cameron swore was not there moments earlier. "There's no need to see your friends die."

"I'll kill you first," Cameron growled, thrusting the sword forward.

"Very well," Iain said, blocking the blow easily with a slow smile. "This will be amusing."

The battle vacillated, and Nre could hardly keep track of what was happening. Her mind had been taken over by some sort of survival instinct that was screaming constantly. She tried to focus on holding the sword and dodging any blows — the sword pretty much handled any attacks or blocks for her.

Despite the enchanted sword, she soon found herself backed against the wall next to Karl and Sarah, trying to fight off three of Iain's soldiers before the trio crushed. Karl and Sarah both looked fit to collapse at any moment, which didn't buoy Nre's hopes of success in the slightest.

Then, she saw her father. He'd caught sight of her in the battle, and he was at her side almost instantly, killing one man and disarming another before Nre had time to properly notice he was there.

"Father," she gasped.

He smiled tightly at her, blood smeared on his cheek, but his eyes looked relieved. She smiled, then paid for her inattention with a slice to her arm. Thomas managed to block it before it did more than draw blood, but that put Nre's head back in the battle. A surge of fear made her look up to see how Cameron was faring, and she sighed a little when she saw he was still alive, battling fiercely with Iain.

Cameron blocked blow after blow, returning strike for strike and jab for jab. He prided himself on being an excellent swordsman, but Iain was a formidable opponent.

"Just wish," Iain ground out between clenched teeth, swinging his sword in a move that almost made Cameron lose his grip on his weapon.

"Never," Cameron grunted, returning a blow faster than Iain expected and cutting the man's leg.

Iain returned the favor with a quick jab to the thigh which Cameron blocked expertly. What he was not expecting, though, was a follow-up attack to his shoulder. He managed to deflect the blade from his arm, but it bit into his side instead.

Nre's head jerked up when she heard Cameron cry out, and she saw crimson staining his shirt.

"Cameron!" she yelled, startling the soldier in front of her long enough for Thomas to render him no longer a threat.

"Ah, Cameron, really?" Karl said testily; he closed his eyes and thrust a hand toward the battling pair, loosing a spell that made Iain lose his balance.

Cameron championed Iain's momentary weakness, forcing Iain back, against the library wall.

"Fare well," Cameron ground out, and he plunged his sword through the man's heart before he could say anything.

Nre, distracted by Cameron's victory, was jerked back to her fight when a searing pain rippled through her thigh. Her opponent pulled his sword out with a bare smile and Nre swallowed, blocking his next blow as she tried to remain standing.

Karl touched her arm and muttered something, pulling his arm away quickly again and dodging a blade. Immediately, the pain in her leg began to dull, though the wound itself remained.

Thomas disposed of the man who had injured his daughter, but was then driven away, along with Karl and Sarah. Nre tried to follow, but two soldiers came between them. Nre's heart was in her throat, and she hoped the blade knew what it was doing as it jumped from attacking one to blocking the other in a matter of seconds.

She wasn't left alone long, though; Cameron and Carvin appeared by her side as if she had called them, distracting the soldiers long enough for Nre to bolt and join up with Rose, Mel, Faidn, and her mother who were taking on seven.

"You know, Cameron," Carvin said. "Under normal circumstances, we would be fighting _against _each other for the hand of the lady."

Cameron nodded, sweat trickling down his wincing face.

"Yes, but now it is more important to be fighting _with _each other for the _head _of the lady."

"True." He blocked a sword, than thrust. "Sorry I couldn't help with Iain — I couldn't manage to get out of the thick and to your side."

"Understandable," Cameron grunted, disarming his opponent. "I appreciate the sentiment.

"Of course."

Something in Carvin's tone wasn't right, but Cameron didn't have time to think about it; he blocked another blow, then felled another soldier.

"You know, milady, you're not bad with the blade," Faidn commented, looking at Gloria with some surprise. She was, in fact, better than he was, but Faidn didn't want to say that, exactly.

"I did my time in the ring," Gloria said, blocking a blow, then saving Rose who — with her enchanted blade — was actually doing marvelously well. "I beat Thomas once, actually."

"No!" Nre cried, overhearing her mother's statement.

"Oh, Nre!" Gloria shouted, then she noticed Nre's leg. "You're hurt!"

"Oy!" Faidn yelled, blocking a blade from stabbing Gloria through the heart. _"The battlefield is no place for warm reunions!"_

Nre didn't even hear her mother; her horrorstruck gaze was fixed on the other side of the room, where a man was pulling his blade from Cameron's torso.

"Cameron!" Nre's cry echoed through the room once more, and she dropped her sword with a clatter, running and tripping across the littered floor.

Carvin was letting out a long wordless cry of rage, driving the three men who had besieged the pair back, back, killing one—back—then two—

"Cameron!" Nre choked, falling to her knees by Cameron's side and ignoring her leg, which was now bleeding profusely.

Cameron saw her face swimming above him, through a haze he couldn't quite dispel.

"Cam?" She brushed sweaty hair out of his eyes; her trembling hand cupped his cheek.

An awful amount of blood was staining her pants, and it wasn't all her own. Karl and Mel were by her side in an instant, muttering things and clenching their eyes tightly closed, hands resting on Cameron's tattered shirt.

Cameron suddenly couldn't feel very much of anything, except Nre's hand cold and shaking, against his warm cheek. He looked up and her, and was lost in her eyes.

"Cam, say something," Nre said, her eyes filling with tears which then fell, _plip-plop,_ onto Cameron's face; they smeared a streak of blood as they ran down his cheek.

Cameron could barely hear her anymore, but he could feel — he could feel! — her hand, her tears, as he sunk further down into the floor, to the ground.

"Please, Cam," Nre said, tears falling recklessly onto his face now.

Karl and Mel, pale and exhausted, continued muttering, touching: their own hands stained with Cameron's blood.

Cameron managed to move his lips, heavy as lead, with great effort.

"I wish," he said on a breath, "that Carvin and Nre—"

"Stop, you'll be fine," Nre pleaded, but Karl and Mel had moved back now, looking at each other.

"—that they will be happy—together."

"Cameron—"

Things were starting to get fuzzy, but Cameron pressed on.

"I wish that Nre and the others would be safe."

Cameron couldn't see anything but Nre's eyes, couldn't feel anything but her finger on his cheekbone.

"Nre," he managed to say, "I love you."

And then she vanished.

* * *

**Everything is starting to come together! Ahh! What do you think of Mel? And Thomas and Gloria?**

Mazzie**: Nope. You missed nothing. Although you would have missed a chapter if last weekend hadn't been so unaccountably busy. ;-) Yeah, any help is better than no help. And abusing humans is just what fairies do, 99% of the time. When they're not on the verge of being destroyed, that is. Yeah dude, being stuck 100 miles from your mortally imperiled daughter would be the pits. I know. I love Cameron. :-/ So sad. About Faidn... we do need to talk. I refuse to be shut out like this! -dramatic- Congrats on being the sole reviewer. XD You get a piece of my wedding cake. From the future. THAT'S HOW SPECIAL YOU ARE.**

**Reviewers get Twinkies!**


	27. In Which There Is Comfort

**5 . 7 . 11**

**Happy Independence Day Weekend to my American readers! I hope you all had a great time with your family and friends, watching fireworks and eating delicious cookout food.**

**We're wrapping up to the end of the story now. -sad face- I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

The Berensian palace was quiet that midmorning: as it had been since Nre had left some weeks before, taking her sudden laughter and barefoot runs down the hall with her. Since the King and Queen had left, the workload for the servants had died down to mostly cleaning the corridors and rooms and preparing food for themselves. The servants had already done their daily sweep and dust of the corridor by midmorning, so the party was quite alone when they found themselves standing suddenly in the hallway instead of Iain's house in Philettin.

"No, no, no!" Nre shrieked, her voice echoing against the stone walls. "Come back! Come back!"

She didn't even register that she was home. All she knew was that Cameron wasn't there, and she had to be with him, had to save him, had to—

She took off running down the hall, but her leg gave out after one a few steps. She couldn't even feel where the man had stabbed her, but her body was quick to remind her that she was in no state to run.

Carvin reached her just before she hit the ground, breaking her fall with hands that didn't shake, though his face was deathly pale. Nre stared at them all in bewilderment, begging someone to tell her that it was all just a dream. Rose looked at Faidn, and Sarah blinked tears from her eyes, shaking her head. Dannlin took her hand in his, letting her lean on his shoulder. Mel and Karl just traded a heavy look.

"He is — dead," Carvin finally said, very quietly.

His solid gaze met her scared one, but she shook her head still.

"No!" she repeated. "That just — it can't — it doesn't "

"What in the name of King Thomas is going on down here?" called an irate, high pitched voice. It sounded like it was coming from the stairs. "I told you children _yesterday: _just because the King and Queen are not here, that does not mean you frolic about like miscreants in the entry—"

The woman came into view, descending the stairs and still talking. Her sentence died halfway through when she laid eyes on the group, who were all staring at her with wide eyes.

"Who—" the woman exclaimed, her eyes narrowing, and then her eyes fell on the princess, crumpled on the floor covered in blood, and she screamed. "Nre!"

Her eyes frantically scanned the group of people as she ran to Nre's side; all of them were dead on their feet and covered in blood. Rose actually fainted then, which might have made the woman scream again, except she was far too focused on Nre.

"Lois?" Nre said, confused. She only then realized that she was at home.

"I'll call for the doctor," Lois said, seeing how much blood was on Nre's clothes and going pale. "Mercy—"

"Most of it isn't hers," Carvin said, his voice reassuring, but clipped. "But she still needs a doctor. Her leg is injured. And she's not the only one."

"Of course, Lord Tiroe," Lois said, her voice was shaky and uncertain — completely unlike her usual demeanor. "Follow me to the guest room just down the hall. Gered! The doctor!" A man who had appeared curiously at the end of the stairs, took one look at the party and disappeared again.

Carvin helped Nre, who had resorted to a numb shock, make her way down the hall with the others. They all sheathed their weapons and followed Lois without talking. Faidn carried Rose to the room, her face very pale and her shirt drenched in blood.

"She alright?" Dannlin asked Faidn worriedly.

Faidn nodded.

"Karl sealed it up, once we realized she was hurt so bad. She's just lost a lot of blood," he replied in an undertone.

Carvin draped Nre's arm over his shoulder and tried to keep the weight off her injured leg that was still oozing blood, dripping with small muddy splashes onto the stone.

Lois warned off anyone who neared the strange group, and strange they looked indeed. Nre was in a shirt and _pants _of an odd style that coordinated with Dannlin's. Sarah and Rose were also in pants and shirts, and Mel and Karl's clothes were completely strange in comparison to the rest.

All clothes were stained with blood, in large patches or small flecks, and Nre's clothes were absolutely filthy. All hair was hopelessly tangled and faces were ruddy, splattered with dust and blood. Behind the group trailed a spotty path of dirt and mud which was quickly cleaned up by servant boys who got the nod from Lois.

She led them to two adjoining rooms on the main level, opening both doors and talking in a very motherly fashion, though she was pale and trembling.

"No one will bother you here. The physician should be here in moments, and I'll have food brought and fresh clothes for all of you, along with hot bathwater and some attendants to help you bathe and dress. I'll send some trained servants to dress your wounds and administer basic medicines."

The others murmured some sort of thanks, but Nre didn't say anything, staring unseeingly at the wall. Carvin agreed for her, keeping a hold on her in case her leg gave out again. As soon as Lois left the room, Karl knelt by Nre's side and put a hand on her leg. In moments, the bleeding stopped, and Karl dragged himself to his feet, looking even worse than Nre.

"Karl—" Carvin started.

The man lifted a hand.

"She won't die on our watch," Karl said, breathing heavily.

"I was going to say thanks," Carvin finished.

An entourage of servants arrived before Karl could say anything else, bearing food, hot water, and clothes, and began ushering them all into the bathrooms.

"There are four bathrooms and two tubs in each bathroom," one informed them. "That's enough for all of you to bathe at the same time."

"We've medical training," another added, gesturing to his compatriots — two women and another man. "We can help you bathe and dress your wounds."

Carvin carefully handed Nre off to a tutting medical aide and rushed through his own bath, pushing off the servants after they bandaged his major wounds.

"I'm fine for now, I've got to help Nre," he said irritably. "Go help Dannlin, he's going to collapse here soon."

They muttered something about stubborn nobles, but moved obediently on to the swaying young boy.

Nre, meanwhile, was having a bit of trouble herself. After being reminded three times each by Mel and the servant attending her that she needed soap to be clean, she made it through her bath and was dressed in a simple, comfortable, cotton dress. She was then led out to the common area where they bandaged her thigh, though it was mostly healed over, and other smaller cuts.

"Eat," Carvin commanded, handing her a small bowl of bread and soup.

"Not hungry," she mumbled.

"I don't care. Eat," he insisted.

She did so mechanically, not even questioning when Carvin didn't eat anything himself. Her eyes drifted unconsciously to the bathroom door, where Sarah was arguing with a maid about something.

"We're fine."

"But, milady—"

"I've been washing myself for as long as I remember, I'm really fine."

"But your friend, she's so weak!"

"I can take care of her too."

"Milady!"

"Heaven forbid I should do anything without you around! No. Kindly please leave, so Rose and I may bathe."

"Milady, I think you—"

"Well, I don't. Leave, please."

The door opened and closed, admitting a very flustered maid.

Karl smiled somewhat, sitting unobtrusively in the corner chair and listening to the many conversations circulating around him. Three empty plates of food were stacked neatly by his feet, and he looked much better.

"Ouch!" Faidn yelped. "Are you trying to cut off my hand or tie it in place, good sir?"

The medical aide glanced up at him in annoyance for a brief moment before tugging on the long strip of fabric again.

"Sir, I must insist that the blood flow be allowed to remain in my hand," Faidn said, wincing.

"And I must insist that you try to restrain your mouth while I wrap your hand. Unless you'd like to be a cripple for the rest of your life, let me do what I am going to do. You've a bad sprain, maybe a break. If it is broken, we can't run any risk of its setting wrong."

Faidn inhaled sharply as the aid tugged again, then tied it off.

"Karl," Carvin said, coming to Karl's side after Nre was whisked away when her leg started bleeding again suddenly.

"I should have known it wouldn't hold," Karl muttered, then looked at the haggard young man.

"Please tell me what is going on with you. Since I met you in town, and you knew about—"

"Later," Karl said wearily, closing his eyes.

"Karl—"

"No!"

The word rang around the room and a few people paused before returning to work.

"Later," he repeated, and Carvin let the subject drop.

He waited instead for Nre's return. Servants teamed up and converged upon him, bandaging everything that didn't look normal and thrusting some food into his hands. He ate grudgingly, watching the door and growing more anxious as time passed. After an hour, after all the attendants and aides had gone, he realized that she would probably not return to this room, but to her own chamber and began a search to find a servant who could take him there.

_Why are there so many servants, but never one when you really want them? _He thought in frustration, prowling the empty corridors.

"Lord Tiroe, can I help you?"

He spun around to see Lois standing there. Her face was drawn, but she smiled slightly at the expression on his face.

"Yes, er, thank you. Can I see Nre?"

She frowned.

"She is in her chambers. I think she wants to be alone."

"Please, madam? I just want to talk to her for a few minutes."

He must have looked desperate, because Lois sighed and conceded.

"Alright, I will take you. Come."

He followed Lois at a quick pace. After mounting a flight of stairs and traversing a corridor, they arrived.

"Only a few minutes," she warned.

"Yes, right."

He knocked quietly and Lois retreated, to check on the others, most likely.

There was no answer.

"Nre? It's Carvin. Can I—can we talk?"

Still no answer.

He cautiously opened the door.

Nre sat on the window ledge, one leg dangling out the window and the other stockinged foot braced against the floor. Her head was resting on the cool stone, and she stared at the beginnings of autumn outside her window. She didn't twitch when Carvin entered.

"Nre?" he said, taking a few cautious steps into the room.

A light draft played in Nre's still-short hair and swept across Carvin's face.

"He is not dead," she said in a firm whisper, still not facing him.

Carvin winced.

"Nre, you need to accept this. You're only torturing yourself."

She breathed in sharply, and Carvin thought for a moment he had offended her.

"The wishes."

These words Carvin only heard because the next gentle eddy of the breeze delivered them to his ears.

"I wish that Cameron was alive!" she exclaimed, voice ringing with savage triumph.

There are a heartbeat of silence,and Nre tried again.

"I wish none of this—had ever happened."

Her voice cracked, and Carvin was about to open his mouth to say something when a woman appeared next to him, chestnut curls swirling like she had just stepped out of a heavy wind. Carvin jumped away from her — he'd had enough of fairies — but the beautiful woman didn't notice him. She walked the few remaining steps toward Nre, then paused a pace away, purple eyes liquid with sympathy.

"I didn't have to appear for the other wishes," she said softly, "but I thought—you should know, dear."

She hesitated, then laid a hand on Nre's knee.

"Dear, I'd love to," she said sincerely, "but it's impossible."

"Shayna's Wish doesn't have limits!" Nre spat accusingly.

Her face was now turned toward the room and Carvin was surprised to see it tear-free, though her eyes were bloodshot.

"They aren't bound by normal fiari limitations," she corrected, "but there are some things even magic cannot do."

"Magic can do anything!" Nre said, eyes ablaze.

She swung her other foot inside and stood level with the fairy, who paled visibly.

"I am sorry," she repeated nervously. "Is there anything else you'd like to wish for? You wasted those two wishes, but you still have one more—"

"Bring him _BACK_!" she screeched the last word and the fairy dodged her hand, darting backward.

"DO IT!"

The princess hurled a nearby statuette, but the fairy disappeared and the marble object bounced off the wall, leaving a nasty dent. Nre let out a scream of frustration that turned to a strangled cry of grief and sat down heavily on the windowsill again.

"Nre, it's going to be okay," Carvin said hesitantly, walking over to her.

"You can't know that!" she snapped, glaring furiously at him. "And what are you doing in here! I did not tell you to enter!"

Carvin almost quailed, facing this side of Nre that he didn't know, but he didn't step back.

"You don't understand," she snarled bitterly.

"I don't understand," he agreed, sitting down beside her, which took more brass than he knew he possessed. "Not fully. But I don't ... have to understand."

Nre looked at him scathingly and Carvin almost regretted his decision to stay with her, but not quite. Even if she yelled and punched and screamed, he wasn't going to leave her now: not when she needed someone the most.

"Get away from me and don't try any of those old 'Let it all out' or 'Talk about it' or 'It will all smooth over' lines on me, because I've heard them all. Lois said about every one in the book," she said bitterly.

"I wasn't going to say anything. I was just going to be a ... a shoulder to cry on and a sympathetic ear," Carvin said quietly. "When my mum — when she — well, that's what I wanted. I thought you might like it too."

Nre's face softened, the edged anger fading and leaving behind a tired grief and a glimmer in her eyes that told him they might be friends after all.

"That'll do," she whispered, and put her head on his shoulder. Her first tears since arriving at the castle slipped silently down the folds of Carvin's shirt, and the boy put an arm around her back.

Lois peeked in and saw the pair: Nre's shoulders shaking and Carvin rubbing her back jerkily. She backed out of the room noiselessly and let them be.

* * *

"Your majesties."

Gloria spun around so fast she almost fell over, eyes rid-rimmed with tiredness and panic. Thomas heard Mel's voice, too, and he left General Henchfeld mid-sentence to run toward her.

"Where are Nre and the others?" Thomas asked. "You all vanished, and we thought it might be one of Iain's spells—"

"It was Cameron's wish," Mel explained. "He wished that everyone would be safe. It looks like the wish transported the children and the injured back to your palace, and left you and the soldiers behind."

"Thank the stars," Gloria said, the apprehension lifting from her shoulders.

It had been almost a half-hour since the group's disappearance, and she had imagined every possible scenario. The soldiers already searched the house and came up with nothing, and they were preparing to scour the countryside, though with little hope.

"I came as soon as I had the energy," Mel said.

"Thank you," Thomas said. His hand found Gloria's and clutched it; they were both clammy with fear, then relief.

"They've been found?" the general asked, walking up to them,

"Yes. They're at the Berensian palace," Thomas replied, turning to the man.

The general looked completely unfazed; he was used to strange magical dealings. "We got lucky this time. Will you and the queen be heading back to Berensia, then?"

"As fast as our horses can carry us," Gloria said firmly.

Now that Nre was safe, she didn't want to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary apart from her.

"My soldiers will take care of Iain's men," the general replied. "What would you have us do with the Prince's body?"

Thomas and Gloria glanced over at the wagon, which they had placed the body in temporarily.

"I can take it to Grendath," Mel offered. She ducked her head. "I took the liberty of informing his parents. I thought they should know before they heard rumors."

"Thank you," Thomas said, by way of reply.

Mel just kissed their foreheads and left. The royal couple arrived back at the palace three days later.

* * *

**So much sadness. Opinions?**

Captain**: I can't begin to respond to all your reviews, unfortunately, between working and planning a wedding, but I'd like to say that every single review you left made me smile or laugh, and contributed to the general brightening of my day. Thank you so much for going through all those chapters and reviewing them! 26: Twinkies are definitely an interesting substance, haha. I just had them for the first time in years the other day. LOL. I am very sorry for causing harm to your lungs; that was not my intention. Nope, you still don't know what the fairy told Carvin. That's probably coming soon. Ahaha, I liked both of those lines as well. I'm glad you enjoyed them -laugh- Yup. Cameron is so sweet. Love that kid. -sigh- Yeah, it's true. I kinda skip over that obvious stage in their relationship, but you know it's there. And here's another chapter! I was busy all weekend, or I would have updated sooner. -grin-**

Eva**: 25: Karl is definitely not very benevolent. But remember that if Iain succeeds he will kill all the fairies. This includes Karl. He has a very selfish reason to thwart Iain: He doesn't want to die. Your observations are also very keen and quite possibly true. ;-) But I thought I'd remind you of that. You already like Karl; it doesn't take much campaigning from me! -laugh- They are rather sweet, aren't they? I'm not sure they could be friends outside of those circumstances, but it would be nice. Haha, Thomas was probably a bit preoccupied and subconsciously seeking some comfort. But it was rather risky. -grin- Also, I just love Faidn in general. He's so good. -hug- 26: Haha, Eva! IF I saved him it would change the entire story; you know I couldn't do that. -chuckle- The fight scene was very fast-paced. Was that okay? Also, feel better soon!**

**Reviewers get a freshly cooked hamburger!**


	28. In Which There Is Peril And Happiness

**9 . 7 . 11**

**Well, here's the last chapter of the story, barring the epilogue. Enjoy!**

* * *

A few days had passed, and the palace was still in an uproar over the mysterious arrival of the strange band and the suspected death of the Crown Prince of Grendath. Karl decided to use the hubbub to his advantage.

There were servants "protecting" him around the clock, though he suspected that they were told to keep him in the palace, as no one (except Nre, but they were understandably leaving her alone) was yet sure of his intentions, and they hadn't gotten around to questioning him. It took a bit of conniving, but he eventually evaded them and padded down the echoing hallway. It was deserted, as he'd thought it would be. He could feel his limbs trembling with fatigue, and his fiari instincts screamed for the forest. He quickened his pace, almost able to taste the leaves' scent on his tongue.

_How long has it been since I've felt a tree? _He wondered, taking a hold of the rusting doorknob. _Enough time to completely drain myself of magic, _he answered himself, unable to keep a relieved smile off his face as he pushed the door open.

Sarah stood on the other side, hands on her hips and a glare situated firmly on her now-clean face.

"Where are you going?" she said menacingly.

"Oh, you know, I always like walking in the garden in the early hours of the morning," he said snidely. "What do you think I'm doing, girl?"

"Running away, coward," she said, eyes narrowing.

"Brilliant. Remind me to send you a prize when I get back home. Now, if you'd let me through—"

"I'm not moving until you answer some questions. If you want to get past me, you'll have to use some of your magic or something."

Karl, knowing full well that he did not have enough magic to move a glass of water, growled his frustration. He could see the trees past this human blockade, and they were calling to him with voices as familiar as family. Not that he really ever had any.

He took quick stock of his physical capabilities and found them woefully drained as well. He'd borrowed some energy from his endurance for the battle, and was regretting it now; he'd hardly been moving for twenty minutes and his legs were beginning to shake.

Nonetheless, he decided to run at her, and hopefully scare her out of the way. He shouted suddenly and charged, startling the girl enough to shove past the temporarily limp arm that was blocking the door. He began running with all he had for the forest.

_Karl, hurry, you have not much life left!_

_You have borrowed unwisely from your body, little one._

_Dodge right, young fiari, she is upon you!_

Karl jumped to the right, but his legs gave out and she landed on top of him. Ordinarily, he would have been able to push her off, but he felt like he had just sprinted a mile. She pinned his arms to the ground with her knees and sat on his chest, glowering.

"You'd best tell me what I want to know, or I'll sit here until someone finds us."

Karl struggled to find the energy to keep the rise and fall of his chest even. He was in a bad position, and he knew it. He was running out of magic, fast, and if he ran out of magic—

He decided he didn't much like this new-and-improved Sarah. Food and a good washing had only served to increase her tenacity outrageously.

"Let me—we need—trees," he gasped, feeling absolutely more helpless than he had ever felt before, and he hated it.

"I don't think so," she said coldly. "You'll probably slurp up some magic from in there or something and disappear before I can ask you any questions."

That was exactly what he planned to do, but he tried again.

"I can't—I need magic to talk," he coughed, loathing the girl that held him down so close to the life-giving magic of the forest.

She laughed scornfully.

"I'm sure you can dredge some up from somewhere. Now, tell me everything. What are you? Whose side are you on? Why did you kidnap Dannlin, Carvin, and I? And don't leave anything out."

"Ask Nre!"

"I'm asking you!"

He gave up, deciding to answer all her questions as succinctly as possible so she would just _let him go. _Hopefully she wouldn't ask for too much explanation; he was feeling very lightheaded already.

Karl closed his eyes, centering the magic in his body to give him the energy to speak clearly, but his throat wouldn't open and he felt strangely empty. There wasn't any magic at all left in him. White began to creep in the edges of his vision. The trees were right, life was leaking out of him.

_Well, this is bad, _he thought dryly, then tried to send a message to the trees.

_Can you—send me—magic? Through the ground?_

Even his thoughts were choked.

"Speak, Karl!" Sarah said, glaring at him still.

Murmuring words sprang across his mind that was beginning to fuzz. Then a voice rang clear. Ceralina, the dryad.

_What trouble has my young friend brought himself upon this time?_

A note of amusement flowed through her words.

_Ceralina, please!_

_I have convinced the flowers to give you magic. They will not give you much, but enough to tell the wise girl what she wants to know and bring you here, if you are brief in your words. Reach out to them, on your left._

Karl stretched his hand left, feeling like he was pushing an anvil across the ground.

"What are you doing?" Sarah asked, reaching to stay his hand.

He managed to wrap his fingers around a rosebush before she could push him away. Soft voices filled his consciousness as sharp pricks of pain told him several thorns were digging into his hand.

_Ceralina had better like him a lot._

_I haven't given magic to a half-breed for three hundred years._

_Och, how sloppily he takes our generosity!_

The magic dribbled into him like a brook trying to slake the thirst of a desert, but he managed to corral it into a ball and unravel it slowly as he spoke.

"I am half fiari, half Shayna's kin. Iain was my owner.

"I kidnapped you and Dannlin because _you_ were being chased by Iain as well. (He was upset that you didn't die properly.) As my life's goal is to make Iain's life as difficult as possible, I took it upon myself to ensure as best I could that you would stay safely out of his reach. Carvin had a run-in with a fairy, and the magic from the fairy's foresight that was hanging around him had just come to Iain's notice, so I convinced him to join me and kept him out of Iain's way."

"What foresight?" Sarah interrupted. "And what fairy?"

Karl pursed his lips, realizing how difficult the simple action had become.

"You don't need me for that. Ask Carvin. My magic is waning and I believe I have a question left to answer: I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side."

The magic was regrettably used up, and the roses would give him no more.

_Ungrateful whelp, using our precious magic to spill his master's secrets._

_I think Ceralina has judged wrong about this one._

Sarah stared into his eyes, obviously trying to decide if there was anything else she wanted to know, and judging his trustworthiness.

"That's it. Now, let me go," he said impatiently, though his voice faltered. He did not relish the weakness that had been growing worse as he spoke, since he had let no magic escape to revive his limbs.

"I think the king will want to hear all that, firsthand," she said decisively.

"Insolent girl!" he said, intending it as a shout, though it came out as more of a strangled whisper. He strained for the dryad in his mind, to beg for more assistance, though the thought of begging for anything repulsed him.

_Cera—lin—_

This was not how he wanted to die. Though, he reflected, it would be quite ironic: strangled by a human girl not twelve feet from the forest. The voices of the trees were blurred and unintelligible. He could hear the cadence of Ceralina's voice, though he couldn't make out any words.

Suddenly, the last muscles that had continued to work, though shaking badly, collapsed; Sarah sank a few inches into his chest. He struggled violently to heave the weight up and take a breath, but the strain was too much. His body had stopped fighting.

He heard Sarah yelling for someone.

In a last ditch effort, he pooled any life from his body and used it to wrench all the magic from the rosebush his bleeding hand was resting limply on. The voices yelled sharply but he ignored them, spreading the magic into his body and hoping it was enough.

He rolled, using a spell to knock Sarah off of him, and scrambled to his feet, then ran at full tilt toward the trees.

_Dodge left!_

Karl leapt successfully to the left, narrowly missing Sarah's hands. He could feel his limbs protesting the strenuous movement, but he forced them onward, unraveling the ball of magic to keep them moving.

_Karl! Behind you!_

Someone tackled him, and they rolled forward, tumbling together. They came to a stop and Karl recognized Dannlin's determined face.

He smirked and reached above his head, touching the bark of a smooth birch. An instant later, he'd vanished.

* * *

A letter arrived for Carvin the day after Karl left, addressed in his father's lavish handwriting and containing a lengthy missive that clearly communicated the man's frustration that he was unable to come to the palace to see his son firsthand. The Harvest Festival in town was scheduled for that week and, as the lord of the land, Duke Tiroe was beholden to attend.

"_A curse on matters of state!" _he had written._"I want to be there myself and make sure you're alright!"_

Carvin had to admit that he was mildly relieved his father did not come. He wanted some time without responsibilities or questions, so he could stay by Nre's side when he could, and think about everything that had happened when he couldn't.

And so, while Nre was greeting her parents, who had just arrived, he stared out the window, watching the beautiful Berensian trees waver outside his window in all their autumn finery. The leaves were a flaming collage of crimson and gold, and the sun reflected the brightness into his eyes. Together, they urged him to smile and celebrate with them, but there was something heavier on his mind. He often pushed it out of his thoughts, but they always returned to it. In the middle of these musings, Faidn walked into the room, and so Carvin spoke.

"I knew it was going to happen."

"What?" Faidn said in confusion, turning to give Carvin an odd look.

He had just come from the kitchens, and his mind was far away from any dark thoughts.

"I knew," Carvin said, looking out his window, "that Cameron was going to die."

"Say wha—?" Faidn choked, now completely focused on Carvin instead of the servant girl that had winked at him over the biscuits. "You couldn't have possibly known."

"That fairy I told you about, the one who got rid of those awful nightmares? She showed me. She showed me exactly how it would happen, and I knew it was true," Carvin said in a low voice, in case anyone was walking by. He just had to say it to someone. The words came of their own accord, each of them tinted with relief as they relieved the awful pressure in his soul that had been building since he saw the vision. "I knew he was going to die, and I knew it was going to happen because the person fighting next to him didn't block a blow for him. I knew it."

The words brought with them the tears of grief he had not allowed himself to shed, and he turned to look at Faidn now, struggling to keep himself together.

"So I didn't tell them. I wanted him to enjoy the time he had left with Nre before he died. He wouldn't have wanted to die because someone said he was going to. He died a hero. And I like to think he died happy."

"So you—you fought beside him," Faidn said, putting the pieces together. "The whole time, except with Iain. You never left his side, did you?"

"No."

"You wanted it to be your fault?"

"I couldn't let it be anyone else's. I had to try to stop it," Carvin said, looking back to the window. "But I was too slow."

"Wow," Faidn said. "I really didn't see that coming."

Carvin was silent. Faidn shifted his feet, then sat in the chair beside his friend.

"Vin?" Faidn said, after a moment's pause. "It's not your fault, you know."

Carvin half-turned his face, and Faidn saw a few tears escape his eyes.

"I know, Fai," he said, sounding tired. "Do you think… I should have warned him?

"He wouldn't have wanted to know," Faidn said firmly. "You did the right thing."

Carvin nodded, then grabbed Faidn in a tight hug, letting more tears fall onto his friend's shoulder. Faidn gripped him back, slightly awkwardly.

"Thanks, Faidn," Carvin said, brushing the tears away as he released his friend.

Faidn grinned briefly.

"Don't thank me. You're the hero. I wouldn't have been able to keep that quiet. Now, get yourself sorted or they're going to think we've turned ourselves into a fine pair of women, bawlin' and huggin'."

Faidn shuddered. Carvin let loose a laugh, shaking his head.

"Fai, you always know the right thing to say, don't you?"

Faidn shrugged.

"I guess it's a gift?"

* * *

Over the next few months, everything slowly began to ease its way back to a state of semi-normality. A funeral was held for Cameron a few days after the King and Queen returned to the palace, giving the Berensians enough time to travel up to Grendath. Mel then returned to the West Wood and was not heard from again.

Rose, Dannlin, and Sarah were offered passage back to Ellespeth if they desired, or positions as nobles for their heroic action in battle. They refused both, beseeching Nre for positions as servants in the palace. They pleaded that they had no idea how to be nobles.

All they really wanted was someplace safe to stay, and a job that they could do. Gloria hesitantly granted their strange request, after much urging from Nre, but she made sure that they received the best rooms in the servants' quarters, and were paid plush salaries.

Thomas, meanwhile, tried to call off the Nre and Carvin's marriage, now that the danger was well past, but the paperwork had been processed too far to change.

Carvin, who had fallen farther into love with the princess, began to truly court Nre in a desperate attempt to win her affections.

* * *

"Can't you do anything?" Gloria asked, picking up the letter Thomas had just put down on his desk and scanning it for any loopholes.

"If I could, I'd be doing it," Thomas said in frustration, massaging his forehead. "But it's already passed through the three committees that approve noble marriages, and it's in the official record books."

Gloria read as much in the regretful letter she currently held.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, putting the letter down herself and facing Thomas. "Well, at least there's no time constraint."

"What the devil does that have to do with anything?" Thomas said, looking down at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Haven't you been watching them at all these past months?" Gloria said, unable to fully mask a grin. "Carvin is completely taken with her. It won't be long before Nre falls for him, too. Mark my words. For example: do you know what she told me yesterday?"

Thomas didn't look terribly convinced that Gloria knew what she was talking about, but he shook his head and shrugged.

"How should I know?" he said impudently.

She poked him in the nose before continuing.

"She used her last wish."

Thomas was all of a sudden very interested.

"What did she wish for?"

Gloria grinned.

"She takes after her father, with her craftiness. She wished that her second daughter would have an enchanting voice."

Thomas had to laugh.

"What a vixen. She just got three wishes in one."

"I believe this proves my point: she obviously thinks highly of Carvin. I'd give her a few months at most."

"And what makes you such an expert?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I've fallen in love once, too," she said, smiling.

"Mm, have you?" Thomas asked.

"Madly," she replied, brushing her hand along his clean-shaven jaw.

"What a coincidence," Thomas said with a look of mock surprise.

They were close enough now that she could hear his low murmur quite clearly. He lifted his hand and brushed a curl of hair from her neck.

"Why's that?" she asked, and her voice was just a bit breathless.

"I'm in love right now," he replied, and then he kissed her.

* * *

**Annnd, Karl steals the spotlight for the majority of the last chapter. How typical. Opinions?**

Captain**: Carvin really is a sweetheart. That's why I love him so much. -smile- Haha, of course Karl is your favorite. He is an interesting fellow. I'm rather glad there are readers like you to pay his little details close attention. It makes me happy as an author. I hope your questions are answered here, and if not, fire away! I tried to cover everything, but I'm not sure I succeeded.**

Eva**: That wasn't quite the end. This is the end. How could I end it without wrapping up Thomas and Gloria's relationship? That would be silly. Yeah, and here's that "strange scene" you mentioned. I liked it, despite its probably being one of the "strange magical things" you didn't seem so keen on. -grin- As for the wishes — well, fairies aren't notorious for being fair. You should know that by now. Hah. Thanks for the little points; I'll try to remember to fix them. Lois really is pretty great. I like her. -hug- Carvin and Faidn are both about 17-18 in this story, so he is still a teenager. I did leave out the archery lesson, because I couldn't find a good place to fit it in, and it didn't seem to work as I was rewriting. If you know of a good place for it to go, tell me; I'd love to have it in, because I like the bonding moment myself. **

Mazzie**: I was sad that you didn't review either, haha. Yeah, sometimes people don't get to die nobly, no matter how much they deserve it. Sad day. You teared up? Aw. I'm glad you liked Carvin and Nre so much. Carvin is pretty sweet. Are you looking forward to something new? Look out for the Ficathon story. I'll be posting the first chapter on the 12****th****, Lord willing. -grin-**

**Reviewers get coffee ice cream!**


	29. In Which the Story Ends

**14 . 7 . 11**

**And here's the epilogue — the real end of the story. It's a bittersweet moment, ending a story. I'll miss these characters. Thanks to everyone who's ever read or reviewed. I appreciate the comments all of you reviewers have given me, and I hope I was able to add a little something to your life too — whether you reviewed or not. It's been lovely journeying with you. I hope you like where the end of the path takes us:**

* * *

More than a year later, the day dawned bright and beautiful in Berensia, the trees just starting to sprout buds as the winter's snow melted. Inside the palace, the bright light streamed through the windows of the dining room, lighting the table pleasantly and banishing the need for lamps that the winter had demanded.

"Don't forget that Lord Tiroe is coming today," Gloria reminded Nre as the girl sat down at the breakfast table.

Nre glanced at her mother, then smiled; the queen hadn't even looked up from her cooked pears.

"I didn't," Nre said, sitting down carefully and serving herself some waffles. "Good morning mother, father, Alphonse, Marlita."

"Good morning," Marlita and her mother murmured at the same time.

Alphonse nodded deeply, his mouth full of muffin. Thomas lifted his eyes from his plate long enough to say,

"Good morning, Nre," before looking back down.

A second passed in which he stared, puzzled, at his plate before he fixed Nre with a proper look.

"Stand up!" he ordered.

Gloria jerked her head up in alarm.

Nre stood slowly, a small smile on her face as her family stared. Her hair, now a moderate length, was colored and done up in an ornate assortment of braids, twists, and loops with thin green and purple ribbons intertwined flawlessly throughout. Color had been tastefully applied to her face, and she was wearing a sleek dress of pale green silk with brilliant purple and yellow trim.

"She's fancied up!" cried Alphonse in mock horror. "And smiling!"

"You look lovely," Gloria said, standing up and walking over to the nervously smiling girl.

"Stunning," agreed Marlita with a wink. "He won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

"How long have you been awake?" Alphonse asked, bracing himself for the answer.

"A long time," Nre said. "Lois has been doing my hair since sunrise — it just won't cooperate!"

She glared at a piece that had fallen from its assigned post, then sighed and tucked it behind her ear. Alphonse shook his head and whistled low, clearly impressed by his sister's unusual devotion to appearance.

"All this for Carvin?" he asked.

Nre raised her eyebrows.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nooo," Alphonse said quickly, throwing his hands up in the air. "None at all. I quite like the lad, actually. When is he coming, anyway?"

"Within the hour, I believe," Thomas said, glancing at his pocket watch.

"Do you think you can wait that long?" Alphonse teased.

"Watch it," Nre said, sitting down and picking up a forkful of sticky waffle, waving it menacingly in his direction.

A half hour later, they were called out to the courtyard to meet Carvin.

"Lord Tiroe has arrived!" Gered said loudly as the carriage slowed to a stop.

The driver hopped off nimbly and opened the carriage door, allowing Carvin to step out.

"Your highnesses," he said respectfully, bowing to the king and queen.

"Crown Prince," he acknowledged, with a bow to Alphonse which the man returned.

"Lady Marlita," he continued, with a low bow which Marlita returned with a perfect curtsy.

When he got to Nre, he kissed her hand.

"Nre," he said with a smile, "It has been far too long."

"Hello, Lord Tiroe," she replied amiably, keeping half an eye on Alphonse, who was watching them intently. Carvin noticed her gaze.

"A walk in the gardens, perhaps?" he said, offering his arm.

"That sounds delightful," she agreed, nodding to her parents and ignoring the wink from her brother before she looped her arm in Carvin's and began to walk.

After they were a safe distance from her family, she grinned.

"It _has _been far too long since you last came. Almost a month. How long will you stay this time?"

"Three weeks," Carvin replied, smiling happily and kissing her cheek.

Things at Greyson weren't going splendidly at the moment; some people in town were making a fuss about planting again. But, when he was with Nre, it all seemed a lot more manageable.

Their talk swept from Nre's visits from nobles to Carvin's concerns about Greyson, and it seemed like hardly any time had passed before Gered found them and informed them that lunch was being served.

The sky was starting to darken, so the pair hurried inside, enjoying a quick lunch before they headed to the library so Carvin could admire a specialty Fidoglio novel that was on display. Nre had just received it as a birthday present; this version included illustrated chapter headings and letter illuminations, and she was in raptures over the artwork. Carvin was eager to see the book as well, if only because it put a glowing smile on Nre's face.

However, before they made it to the library, they were intercepted by Dannlin and Sarah.

"Come here, both of you," Sarah said with a secretive smile, grabbing Nre's hand and leading them both down a set of stairs.

"What is it?" Nre asked suspiciously, following as Dannlin and Sarah walked down the corridor.

"Just keep up," Dannlin answered, also smiling.

They followed them, and the hallways got smaller — Nre realized they must be in the servants' corridors — then Dannlin opened a door.

"Come on guys," he said, waving them over.

Carvin and Nre looked at each other, then walked over to Dannlin.

"Where — oh!"

Nre's question was cut off by a sharp intake of breath as she looked at the royal ballroom. She'd seen it before, of course, but not often — and only when the appearance was marred by huge numbers of people.

Every candle was lit, even those in the chandelier, illuminating the room with a warm golden glow. The stained glass windows around the ceiling sparkled magnificently, silently telling stories of valor and love in their little pictures.

"Go on in," Sarah urged, releasing Nre's hand and gently pushing her into the room.

Nre stepped hesitantly into the room; as soon as her foot crossed the threshold, music began to play and Nre jumped back, into Carvin.

"Scared of songs, now?" Carvin teased gently, with a firm grip on her elbows.

She chuckled and stepped forward again, her feet leading her to the center of the floor as she turned around and around, looking at everything.

"May I have this dance?" Carvin asked, bowing.

"Certainly," Nre said with a grin and curtsy, laying her hand in his.

They danced, talking and laughing, then apologizing for stepping on the other's foot when they lost count laughing. After three dances, Carvin raised a hand to stop the musicians and dropped to one knee.

"What are you doing?" Nre asked, baffled.

"My lady, Nre," he began, looking up at her, "most beautiful woman in the land, princess, keeper of my heart; will you marry me?"

With the last four words, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful ring — a diamond was featured in the center with a small jeweled iris on either side of it.

"Carvin, I — aren't we a–already getting married?" she stuttered.

"But if we didn't have to, would you marry me?" Carvin asked softly.

Nre stood, staring at Carvin who was looking at her nervously.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I would."

Carvin broke into a broad smile and held out a hand. Nre put her left hand in his grasp, and Carvin carefully took off the plain gold engagement ring on her finger, identical to the one he'd been given by the royal family, replacing it with his.

Nre pulled him to his feet, then wrapped her arms around him and held him close. They stayed like that for a moment — breathing, savoring, living.

"Nre Windham, I love you," Carvin said, pulling back and catching her hand, then kissing it.

"Carvin Tiroe," she said, with a smile so big it turned into a laugh, "I love you too."

And so they continued to dance.

* * *

"Come, Linna!" five-year-old Ceilear shrieked, running as fast as her legs would carry her.

"I'm coming! Wait up!" the older girl shouted, giggling and running after Ceilear down the stone hallway.

"Girls!"

"Run! Run!" Lilliana cried, grabbing her sister's hand and helping her run faster, away from their nurse.

She shoved the door open and they hit the gravel path, barefooted, at a full sprint. Ducking into various paths and shortcuts, they managed to lose their nurse before long and ended their flight at the iris field.

"Whooee!" Ceilear said, collapsing on the ground in laughter. "We did it!"

"We sure did," the eight-year-old agreed, also laughing. "You wanna play?"

"Yeah!" Ceilear said, scrambling back onto her feet. "I wanna be the knight! You c'n be the dazzel in 'istress!"

"Alright!" Lilliana said. "I just read a great story about a knight and a damsel! It's where the damsel is trapped in the big tall, tall, tall tower guarded by a _dragon_. You wanna do that?"

"Sure!" Ceilear agreed happily. "Does the knight sing?"

Lilliana thought.

"No, the book didn't say so."

"Oh," Ceilear said with a frown.

"But, we can add that part in. The books don't always tell you everything," Lilliana added hastily.

"Oh good!" Ceilear said, all smiles again. "I'm gonna kill the draggo' by singing him to sleep then choppin' his head off!"

"Good plan!" Lilliana encouraged. "Alright, now, here I am, in my tower."

She then took on the persona of a distraught lady.

"Oh! Oh! The dragon, bold knight! Behind you!"

Ceilear whirled around, a look of determination on her young face.

"Feelin' sleepy, draggo'? You better be, 'cause you're gonna sleep!"

Lilliana put a hand on her forehead dramatically.

"But what if he doesn't sleep, bold knight?"

"You leave thatta me, dazzel," Ceilear instructed. "I'm gonna getcha outta there, if It's the last thing I do!"

She then turned back to the dragon and began to sing a lullaby to it soothingly. Lilliana caught herself yawning once, then whispered loudly down to Ceilear.

"I think it's asleep, bold knight!"

"Yeah," Ceilear whispered back. "Now, look 'way, dazzel. I'm gonna chop its head off."

Lilliana looked away and Ceilear picked up a stick from the ground, bringing it up slowly over her head before crashing it down on the ground in front of her.

"Now it's dead!" she said triumphantly. "I'm gonna come up'n get you!"

The nurse watched them play with a smile, bouncing the little baby boy on her hip.

"You see your sisters, Mittlan?" she asked. "You can play with them soon."

Mittlan sucked on his fist and nodded, observing the two girls dancing together in celebration of Lilliana's liberation.

* * *

**So much fluff. Too much fluff? Heh. Thoughts?**

Captain**: Haha. "It is only right," indeed. You make me laugh, friend. I wonder if he'll ever tell Nre too… Hmm… -Cadmus perks up a bit and starts doodling on nearby chalkboard- Yeah. That fairy was dumb. But it did give him some extra motivation to find them. And to not fight with Cameron for Nre's attention a ton because… yeah. -sadface- A story solely about Karl and Faidn would be… oh my. Possibly a disaster. There is a chunk of a story that has a lot of Karl/Faidn interaction, I think, but they kind of hate each other. Also, it's in the story that **Lobuck **was writing, so who knows if she'll ever finish that. There is some of that in Jab, too, you'll recall. But again with the hating each other-ness. **

**Karl is pretty cool about most things. Success included. Haha. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I would have done something along the lines of your idea. See the world a bit, all expenses paid, then come back and settle down. But they were probably still reeling from the huge culture-shock of Berensia, anyhow. Mayhap they'll travel later. Hmm again. -Cadmus looks interested- You're really piquing my inspiration today. Nre is quite clever, really. And I always thought it was dumb that people didn't word their wishes like that in order to cheat the system. Hah.**

**Has it flown by? I've been incredibly bad at updating in a reasonable time, haha. But you did just jump in again recently… Well! Since you asked, I have been working a lot on the story I'm doing for the ficathon (I linked it below), and I've really been loving it. I play around with a slightly more active narrator than I usually do, and the style's a bit different. But I'm loving the characters so far, and I think the plot is going to be quite the adventure - it's based on Sleeping Beauty, but there are a lot of twists and turns. You should check it out and tell me what you think! -shameless plug- And now that this review reply is three paragraphs long… yes, you may have chocolate ice cream. IF you read and review Charlie. -shameless bribery- Haha!**

Mazzie**: Their marital problems distressed me too! I almost wasn't sure how they were going to resolve at all! Obviously everything cannot be perfect, but things are at least better. -smile- Look at you, spoiling the sequel. That's okay, I'm pretty sure I just did that in my reply to **Captain**. -nervous laugh- What a load to bear, indeed. Carvin is a great man. And he gets together with Nre here! Goodness, child; patience! -grin- The new story is on my bio page; you should definitely check it out! -shameless plug- It's called Charlie, and it's based on Sleeping Beauty.**

**Reviewers get a slice of end-of-fic cake!**

**ALSO! I've just posted the first chapter of my new story, entitled "Charlie". You can find it on my bio page. I was going to link it here, but FF doesn't seem to want to let me. Ah, well. Anyway, it's a story written for **Delia Anole **as a part of the ACA Forum, based partially on Sleeping Beauty. I think you'll enjoy it. -smile- I'd love to have your comments if you have a moment to spare! ****(P.S. You should check out the Forum! There's a link to the Introductions thread on my bio page.)**


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